Chamber of Secrets? How Malicious!
by Nassy Nyrolian
Summary: Phineas and Ferb return to Hogwarts in this sequel to Hogwarts? How Serendipitous! After rescuing a few friends, and learning a few legends, they have to use their magic and wits to defeat the Heir of Slytherin. Meanwhile, Perry and Doctor Doofenshmirtz are at it again. Can they join forces to defeat the evil diary - er ... journal? Find out here!
1. The Second Very Beginning

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or Phineas and Ferb. Hello! If you haven't already, this sequel might not make a lot of sense until you've read _Hogwarts? How Serendipitous_! That's the first book in this 'series.' Okay? So, read and review!

"MOM!" Candace screamed, sending a flock of pigeons screeching from their roost, running to meet her as her car approached the driveway. "MOMMOMMOMMOMMOMMOM!"

Linda Flynn-Fletcher was trying to pull into the driveway, but Candace zoomed behind her. There was no time to lose.

Candace pushed her car past the driveway into the backyard. "BUST! NOW! BACKYARD! BROOMS!"

"Candace!" Linda yelled out the car window. "Honey, let go of the car!"

But Candace had her mind set on one thing, and _nothing _would stop her this time. There was just _no way _that her little brothers could pull _this _stunt without their Mom noticing. Absolutely, positively, _no way_.

Candace gave a final shove and pushed the car into the backyard. She opened the door and yanked her Mom out.

"_DO YOU SEE IT?_" Candace asked, hands to the sky, fingers crossed...

Linda smiled. "Hi, boys. Thanks for doing some of the housework! How about brownies for the hard work?"

Candace's jaw dropped. She looked around in shock.

Ferb was there on the patio deck, holding a broom. There was also a broom sweeping near the corner of the house, and whoever was sweeping must have been standing around the corner.

But just as Linda went inside, the broom rounded the corner. Nobody was holding it.

Phineas stepped out from behind the tree. He looked tired but otherwise happy.

"Wow!" he said, wiping his forehead. He put away his 'wand', which he had reassembled after the fight with Quirrel last year.

"Well, that's the last of 'em. Since they wouldn't stop with the well-filling, Isabella, Buford and I quick shipped them over to Africa where they'll be carrying fresh water to wells in drought-stricken areas."

Candace blinked, and pointed feebly. "But...but...the army of broomsticks...there were _millions_ of them... with the buckets...where...how... _meep_."

"Brownies, kids!" Linda called from inside the house.

Candace sighed. She took a deep breath, and then fell forward in a faint.

Her brothers had been _dweebs _before. Why did Ferb have to be a wizard, and why did Phineas have to follow him to Hogwarts?

"My life sucks," she mumbled to the grass.

It was fortunate that she was looking down, because at that moment, Doctor Doofenshmirtz rode past their house in his Karate-Inator.

"NOOO!" he yelled, as brooms appeared out of nowhere and dumped buckets of water on his machine, short-circuiting it. "_CURSE YOU, PERRY THE PLATYPUS_!"

Perry took one last look at the brooms and leaped over the fence, putting away his stylish fedora as he jumped.

Ah, yes. Just another normal day at the Flynn-Fletcher household.


	2. The Intervention

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or Phineas and Ferb. Read and review! By the way, if you don't get the Pigfarts reference, watch A Very Potter Musical on YouTube. You'll be glad you did. Quirrel (singing): _When I rule the world, I'll plant FLOWERS! _Voldemort: _When__ I__ rule the world, I'll have SNAKES!_

Isabella gently pushed aside a tree branch and brought the binoculars to her eyes.

She frowned.

"It's some kind of mechanical dog," she whispered to the two people behind her. "With three heads. It's guarding the door to a building."

"Oh, not again!" Baljeet sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Agh!" he yelped suddenly. "Buford, I am _balancing on a tree branch_; this is not a good time for a wedgie!"

"It's _always _a good time for a wedgie," Buford assured. He, too, was sitting in the large oak tree in Isabella's yard.

Isabella leaned forward and focused the binoculars. "It could be something different..."

"Nah," Buford interrupted. "Look - Phineas is in his stupid bathrobe again."

Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet leaned back against the tree trunk and groaned.

"Every single invention!" Isabella seethed, raising her hands to the sky. "_Every single one this summer_! Phineas is a brilliant inventor, but this... this is just _crazy_! Just because he's a wizard, he feels the need to shove it in all of _our _faces." She turned to the boys. "We need to hold some kind of intervention."

"Shoulda done that a month ago," Buford said. "I personally drew the line at the Giant Squid Buckin' Bronco."

"Monster trucks: Snape Edition," Baljeet said.

Isabella shuddered. "Haunted house: Snape Edition." She looked through the binoculars again, focused precisely to see Phineas in his backyard across the street.

Instead, she saw a close-up of his eye.

"Hey, Isabella!" Phineas exclaimed.

"AAH!" Isabella yelled, falling out of the tree, along with Buford and Baljeet.

"What're you doing up in the tree?" Phineas asked. "We've already finished today's project! Come on!"

Isabella stood up slowly. "Well, uh, Phineas, there's something we've got to tell you, actually..."

"Check this out first!" Phineas said. He waved his wand, and all three of them were lifted up into the air. Phineas ran across the street, levitating Isabella, Baljeet and Buford along with him.

"It's the Ultimate Wizard Quest Simulator!" Phineas explained, as he set them down in front of the large robotic dog. The dog snapped its jaws at them, making hollow clanking noises.

"With this, you can go through the same epic quest that Ferb and I undertook last June! Wanna give it a spin?"

"Phineas," Isabella began sweetly, but that was as far as she got. Phineas pressed a button on the dog, which reared up and charged at them.

Almost immediately, a ghostly (but obviously robotic) knight waved his sword and ran away, the dog chasing after him. The door was open for them to go through.

"Excuse me," Baljeet interrupted, "but is Sir Cadogan not a _painting_?"

"It's called creative license!" Phineas answered, dragging them through the door. Just beyond the door, there was a large pit filled with robotic Devil's Snare.

In this manner, Phineas dragged Isabella, Baljeet and Buford through the wizarding quest that he and Ferb had completed at the end of their first Hogwarts year.

This would have been an exciting experience, except for the fact that Phineas had based _every single _invention over the summer on the wizard world.

There had been the Sorting Room, which sorted every person in Danville according to what Hogwarts House they would have been in.

There had been the day that they had issued a gold-based currency that had seriously devalued the euro. Phineas had named it the 'galleon.' But the Wizarding Society of Britain had reprimanded him, so they had to take it off of the market. It had been a shame, because with the new currency they could have saved Athens from a huge economic crisis.

There had been the Portal to Mars. By itself, it didn't sound very wizardly, and the friends had gotten rather excited, but then Phineas had taken them to a place there that he called "Pigfarts."

About ten minutes later, frazzled and panting heavily, Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet stumbled out of the Ultimate Wizard Quest Simulation.

Phineas happily sauntered out after them, beaming graciously. "So, what'd you guys think?"

Baljeet's eyes were wide. He found that his voice was hoarse from all the screaming before.

"I think... that I wet my pants," he said.

"I _know _I wet mine," Buford bragged.

"Well, at least I earned my Fulfill a Wizard Simulation Badge," Isabella said weakly.

"Good, huh?" Phineas asked them again.

Isabella looked to Buford and Baljeet. The boys nodded to her.

"Phineas," Isabella said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're super excited about being a wizard, and all. We're all really happy for you, too. But sometimes... it seems a little... much."

Phineas blinked. "Much?"

"Well, you're taking this a bit too far," Isabella pushed gently. "I know that you love being able to do magic and stuff –"

"I don't do magic," Phineas said, rather stiffly. "But it's as close as any Muggle's ever gotten!" he added, trying to put a happy tone back into his voice.

It still irked Phineas incredibly that, even though he had designed an apparatus out of some wood, a chocolate frog, and a video game in a little less than a half hour that was able to fake magic using science, he was still a Muggle. There wasn't a single drop of magical blood in his veins, even though he was a veritable genius. His fake wand was a thing of beauty, but not even _close_ to real magic.

Ferb, on the other hand, was a true wizard. His mother had been a real witch, and Ferb now possessed a real wand, made out of pine (which, as their friend Hermione pointed out, was one of the best wand woods for nonverbal spells.)

Isabella now silently reminded herself about his sensitivity regarding magic. Her original intention was to have him stop using magic around them altogether, but it would be impossible to separate Phineas from the wizarding world for that long.

"Phineas," Isabella said, suddenly thinking of an idea. "Don't you have any wizard friends you can talk to?"

Phineas thought about it. "I guess there's Harry. But I don't have his telephone number or anything. He lives somewhere in England." Phineas was shocked that he hadn't thought of contacting Harry until now. It had just slipped his mind with in the mummy-hunting, rollercoaster-building, beach-building daze of summer.

From the driveway, the four friends suddenly heard car doors slam.

"Ferb and Dad are back!" Phineas said happily. He ran to the driveway.

"Afternoon, Phineas," Lawrence called, hauling a bag of antiques out of the car's trunk. "How'd the day go?"

"Great! I built a mechanical building in the backyard to simulate the wizarding adventure that I went on last year!"

"Splendid, splendid," Lawrence Fletcher muttered, half-listening. "Mind getting the door for me, boys?"

Ferb hopped out of the car and helped his father with the bags.

"Find anything good?" Phineas asked.

"Oh, I've found loads of great stuff!" Lawrence said excitedly. "And Ferb found this interesting little watch. He thought you'd like it."

Ferb pulled the interesting little watch out of his pocket. The moment Phineas saw it, his eyes lit up.

"Wow, Ferb!" Phineas exclaimed. "How'd you know? It's perfect!"

Isabella caught up with Phineas. "Hi, Mister Flynn-Fletcher!" she said, crossing the driveway.

"Hullo, Isabella," he answered, dragging another bag of antiques into the house.

"So... the watch is perfect for what?" Isabella asked, bouncing on her tiptoes.

Phineas smiled. "Ferb, I know what _else_ we're going to do today!"


	3. Harry, Phineas, Dobby, and the Masons

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or Phineas and Ferb. 'Nuff said, I believe.

Phineas, Ferb and Isabella went back to their backyard. Interestingly enough, the Wizard Quest Simulation building had vanished without discernible reason, and seemed to have been replaced with a small pile of fried eggs.

Phineas shrugged. "Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted. Now, Ferb," he began again, counting off items on his fingers, "I need a blowtorch, a jar of mayonnaise, a screwdriver, and the television remote."

Baljeet watched Ferb run into the house to fetch the items. "And just what are you planning to do?"

"I'm gonna make a communication device that'll let me find Harry and talk to him. Preferably, a hologram. Oh, thanks, Ferb," he added, as Ferb wheeled a small cart outside with the items. With the screwdriver, he took apart the television remote and began fixing choice pieces into the watch that Ferb had gotten for him.

"Let's see..." Phineas muttered, while fixing machinery in place. "The quartz crystal in the watch will connect to the ZZ-643 electronic memory card, which is inversely fixed to the battery..."

"Excuse me," Baljeet said again, somewhat annoyed by Phineas's mumblings, "but how do you plan on contacting your friend if you do not even know where he _lives_?"

"Simple!" Phineas exclaimed, turning around and snapping the back on the watch again. "I've just invented a brand-new device that will bounce our holograms off of the moon, using lunar light, and find the person we tell it to! It sends holograms as a form of communication! I'm calling it the Lunar On-Wrist Technologically Evolved Communicative Holograms!

"That's LOWTECH, for short," Ferb noted in his clever British accent.

"Now, it's nighttime in England right now," Phineas said, "so this will work even better! And, there's not a cloud in the sky today!

"So, you guys coming, or what?" he asked.

Isabella waved her hand in the air. "I'll go, Phineas!"

Baljeet looked nervous. "I am not sure..."

"You're coming, nerd," Buford said without room for argument. He picked up Baljeet and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Well, that's settled, then!" Phineas said happily.

Ferb gave a thumbs-up.

Phineas pressed some buttons on the LOWTECH. A low, quiet _buzz_ing sound appeared in the air. The watch began to shake, just a little.

"_Whom do you wish to find_?" the watch asked politely.

"Find: Potter, Harry!" Phineas commanded.

A tiny satellite popped out of the LOWTECH and spun around for a while, before folding back inside the watch.

"_Potter, Harry, found. Send holograms?"_

Phineas nodded. "Yes. Grab my hand, guys; I'm touching the LOWTECH."

Isabella, Phineas, Buford, Baljeet, and Ferb crowded around the LOWTECH, each holding onto each other. The LOWTECH's buzzing was growing faster, louder, and higher in pitch.

"IT'LL SEEM LIKE WE'RE ACTUALLY THERE," Phineas yelled over the LOWTECH's racket. "BUT WE'RE JUST HOLOGRAMS, REMEMBER. GET READY!"

The world around them shook and spun, the colors blurring and vanishing into a blinding brightness. Isabella squeezed Phineas's hand tightly, and Baljeet began screaming in the background...

... ... ...

"Of course I've got to go back!" Harry shouted. "I belong at Hogwarts! I've got friends there and..."

"Friends that do not even _write _to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked slyly.

BAMMM! A cloud of dust rose up, as five children appeared in the middle of Harry's bedroom.

Phineas Flynn looked around him. They were no longer in Danville, where the bright afternoon sun was shining. Instead, the moonlight streamed through a single window. In the corner, on top of a table, was a snowy owl in a cage. But it hadn't been the snowy owl that had said his name.

There was a black-haired youth, looking very surprised, standing in front of his bedroom door. He was wearing a pair of very distinctive glasses, and a lightning bolt scar marked his forehead.

"Hey, Harry!" Phineas exclaimed. "How's it going?"

"Who is this being, Sir?" Dobby asked, very confused.

"Whoa!" Phineas said, stepping back in surprise of his own. "What's _that_?"

"Er..." Harry Potter said. "This...this is awkward."

"Who is _you_?" Dobby asked Phineas, eyeing him, Ferb, Isabella, Baljeet, and Buford.

"Excuse me!" Baljeet said fiercely, making Dobby jump back a foot. "I believe the correct grammar for that sentence is _who __are__ you_, not is!"

"I's sorry, Sir," Dobby whimpered, backing up. "I's never learned-"

"Again!" Baljeet shouted. "It is _I have never learned, _and _I am sorry_! If you do not use the English language correctly, I will leave!"

"Baljeet!" Isabella reprimanded, as Dobby began to sob loudly. "Look what you've done! There, there," she soothed, reaching out to pet him.

Dobby pulled away, gasping. It looked up at Isabella. "I's never been treated this kindly by another witch... it is not right, Miss, do not be doing it!" he squeaked.

"Er..." Harry tried to speak again. "Who...who're you?"

"I'm Isabella!" Isabella chirped, waving at him. "This is Buford, and this is Baljeet. I believe you know Phineas and Ferb already."

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "Everyone at Hogwarts knows about them. But... how'd you all _get _here?"

"Oh, these are just holograms," Phineas explained. "Thought we'd pop in for a visit."

Harry looked triumphantly at Dobby. "No, Dobby, my friends don't _write_. They invent holograph machines and come visit me _personally_."

Dobby seemed very surprised, and unsure of what to do next. He slowly reached behind his back and took something out. It was pack of letters.

Harry saw them immediately. "Dobby, are those..?"

"Yes, sir," Dobby squeaked. "And if Sir promises not to go back to Hogwarts – "

"Hang on," Phineas interrupted, stepping between the two. "Dude, you're wearing a _pillowcase. _Where exactly were you _keeping_ those?"

"Dobby will never tell," the house-elf muttered. "Now, Harry Potter, Sir, promise Dobby that you won't go back."

Phineas blinked. "Why don't you want him to go back?"

"This psychotic elf," Harry explained, "is telling me about this new danger that's going to show up at Hogwarts this year, and he's been all stopping my bloody mail all summer to convince me my friends don't care! All your letters, Phineas!"

"Well, actually," Phineas admitted, "I didn't send you any letters. I forgot with all the stuff we were building this summer."

"You see, sir!" Dobby exclaimed, his eyes widening, trying to prove his point to Harry.

"Dobby," Harry said, reaching out slowly for the letters, "just give me my mail."

"Promise!" Dobby squeaked.

"I_ have _to go back!"

"Then what Dobby does is for Harry Potter's own good," Dobby moaned. And with that, Dobby reached for the doorknob.

"_Dudley must have left the television on, the little tyke!_" Uncle Vernon boomed from downstairs. "_I'll turn it off, Mr. Mason, don't worry_!"

Harry blanched. "It's Uncle Vernon! Everybody hide!" he shouted.

"Where?" Phineas asked in a panic. "We're holograms!"

"_Somewhere_!" Harry hissed. "_Hurry up! He's coming_!"

"We're doomed!" Baljeet wailed. "I knew holograms were a bad idea!"

"Phineas, turn this thing off!" Isabella told him.

"I'm trying!" Phineas said. "The moon's covered by clouds; it won't work!"

"GIVE ME MY LETTERS, DOBBY!" Harry demanded, as the elf reached out again for the door.

"Not until Harry Potter promises!" the elf squeaked.

BANG!

The door had been opened with such force that it was almost flung of its hinges. Uncle Vernon stood in the doorway ominously, his face as red as Phineas's hair.

Dobby and Harry had frozen, with Harry holding Dobby in a stranglehold and trying to pry the letters away.

Isabella and Phineas were frozen in various positions of panic.

Ferb had pulled out a holographic copy of _The Tragic Life of Doctor John Faustus_ and was reading calmly.

Buford was holding Baljeet in the air by his underwear.

"What?" he asked defensively. "It's always a good time for a wedgie."

Uncle Vernon was still standing in the doorway, unable to comprehend the scene in front of him.

"_WHAT THE BLOODY HELL_?" Vernon screamed, finally, a vein bulging in his temple. _"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW, BOY? I'LL WRING YOUR NECK, YOU LITTLE FREAK!_"

Uncle Vernon stormed into the room, indeed reaching for Harry's neck in a madman's fury.

"NO!" Dobby shouted with surprising fierceness. "YOU WILL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!"

As Uncle Vernon stormed into the room, Dobby lifted his hand and blasted Vernon halfway across the bedroom, straight into Hedwig's cage.

Of course, against Vernon's weight, the cage didn't stand a chance. The door of the cage _snapped _open, and Hedwig fluttered out.

"_THAT RUDDY OWL_!" Vernon bellowed, scrambling back to his feet as Hedwig flew out of the room and down the hallway. He pointed a sausage-like finger at Harry. "GET YOUR OWL BACK IN ITS CAGE!"

"Hey, leave Harry alone!" Isabella said, in a surprising burst of courage.

"AAAAAAGHHHHH!"

Vernon backed away from Isabella in sheer terror.

"Uh, sir? Are you okay?" Phineas asked, trying to be polite.

"AAAAAAGHHHHH!"

Ferb put down his book. He waved good-naturedly.

"AAAAAAGHHHHH!"

Vernon looked ready to explode. He looked at the five holographic children, and at the bat-eared, pillowcase-wearing house elf.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU _FREAK?_" he demanded, his voice an octave higher than usual. "DABBLING IN WIZARDRY AGAIN, WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! RAISING UP THE DEAD! INVITING _DEMONS _AND _GHOSTS _INTO _MY HOUSE!_"

"We're not ghosts, sir," Phineas tried to explain. "This is just the holographic manifestation of our LOWTECH's ability to –"

Suddenly, a shrill scream peeled out from the living room. Uncle Vernon, Harry, Dobby, and the five Danville children rushed to the edge of the stairs and looked down.

Hedwig had mistaken Mrs. Mason's hat for a large rabbit, and was clawing at it eagerly. Mrs. Mason was screaming hysterically, trying to swat Hedwig away. She threw her hat off of her head and practically ran down the front door.

"This is an outrage!" Mr. Mason shouted furiously at Petunia. "My wife is deathly afraid of birds, of all sorts! I assure you, _madam_, that neither of us will step foot within _a mile _of this house _again_!"

He, too, stormed out of the door. He and his wife climbed into the car and ran over a lawn gnome in their haste to get away from that household.

The house was very quiet after that.

Phineas sighed. "Well, at least the pudding –"

Suddenly, Hedwig flapped into the kitchen, and crashed into the sugary masterpiece of Aunt Petunia, sending it toppling to the floor in a shower of pink and white.

Hedwig, looking very pleased with herself, proceeded to flutter up on the cupboard and preen her feathers clean of the sugar.

Uncle Vernon turned slowly, very slowly, to Harry.

"You're in for a world of hurt, _boy_," he growled at his nephew.

Dobby gave Harry a very sad look, and then snapped his fingers, disappearing in a wisp of smoke.

Phineas knew he had to help his friend. "Harry, don't worry, we –"

But then the moon came out again, and the LOWTECH beeped twice.

Phineas, Ferb, Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet disappeared like mirages before Harry's eyes.


	4. A Brief Interlude with the Doof

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or Phineas or Ferb or Candace or Dumbly-Dore or Dobby or...

"And now, Perry the Platypus," Doctor Doofenshmirtz intoned gleefully, pacing back and forth in front of a teal-colored, hat-wearing creature, "quake in _terror! _I am about to turn on my most _destructive _and _evil _intention yet! BEHOLD... _THE SELF-DESTRUCT INATOR!_"

Perry the Platypus, who was tied to a rolling chair, stopped struggling to escape. His eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld the madman's newest invention.

"I've realized something important, Perry the Platypus," Doofenshmirtz continued matter-of-factly. "I _always, _without _fail,_ put a self-destruct button on all my Inators. Yesterday, as my Fried-Egg-Revenge-Inator was being blown up by, well, _you_, I had an epiphany. If I always put self-destruct buttons on my Inators, why not just save myself the trouble and actually build a giant self-destruct button? It's brilliant! Well, what do you think, Perry the Platypus?"

Perry the Platypus gave Doofenshmirtz a look only capable of a platypus secret agent as he regarded his nemesis's stupidity.

"And now..." Doofenshmirtz said, eagerly, creeping towards his Self-Destruct Inator, "I will _turn it on_! And _YOU,_ Perry the Platypus, will be powerless to stop me!"

Cackling evilly, Doofenshmirtz raised his fist and punched the giant red button that constituted the Self-Destruct Inator.

Perry the Platypus quickly took off his hat, opened the protective shield built into it, and waited.

BOOM.

One hour and one mushroom cloud later, Doofenshmirtz had crawled out of the wreck of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, and was now dialing the phone at a phone booth. His hair was smoking slightly, and he was covered in black soot.

"_Evil Building Incorporated thanks our esteemed customer for his call. Please hold._"

Doofenshmirtz gasped. "Hey, I'm an _esteemed customer_! Get that, Perry the Platypus!"

Perry the Platypus rolled his eyes. He had been protected by his hat-shield, and was now running back off to his home.

"_Evil Building Incorporated_," a very dull, bored secretary intoned. "_Can I help you?"_

"Uh, yeah... I just blew up my building. When could I have it rebuilt?"

There was a pause on the line.

"_This is Heinz Doofenshmirtz again, isn't it_?"

"Why, yes! How did you know?"

The secretary heaved a sigh. "_This is your fourth re-building this week, Doofenshmirtz. Your twenty-second this month."_

"Hey!" Doofenshmirtz yelled angrily. "I don't _count _that Sunday when the whale crashed into it."

The secretary sighed again. "_And how do you wish to pay for this, _Mister Doofenshmirtz?" she asked, packing as much contempt into those two words as humanly possible.

Doofenshmirtz opened up his wallet. "Evil Insurance Incorporated covers blown-up buildings, right?"

"_Well, yes, Mister Doofenshmirtz_."

"Great! I'll use that, then."

"_One minute, Mister Doofenshmirtz," _the secretary interrupted. A hint of evil delight crept into her voice. "_It says here that Evil Insurance Incorporated only covers exploded residences for twenty-one times a year._

"_I'm afraid that this payment will be out-of-pocket. That'll be approximately two hundred thousand dollars and thirty-one cents. Cash or credit?_"

Doofenshmirtz's mouth opened. "What? I'm... I'm not _covered_?"

"_No, Mister Doofenshmirtz. You'll have to wait until a year from today to rebuild your lair or pay right now."_

Doofenshmirtz dropped the phone. The money he'd put in had expired, anyway. He ran out of the booth and looked once more at the rubble. The rubble that, an hour ago, had been his lair.

"Sir!" Norm called, ambling up to him from the ruined Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated building. "Sir! I love what you've done with the lair! Has it always been this open?"

"Shut up, Norm!" Doofenshmirtz snapped. He began digging among the smoldering remains for some of his things.

"_I'm afraid that his payment will be out-of-pocket_," Doofenshmirtz mocked the secretary's jolly voice. "_Either pay right now or wait a year_... where are we gonna _stay _for a year?"

Then, while searching, Doofenshmirtz pulled something out of the rubble. It was a hand-held, gun-like thing. He opened the hatch.

It was filled with duct tape. There was a large dent where he had used it to attack a turban-wearing, two-faced wizard.

Memories of last year wound through his mind. He began to formulate an idea.

"Right," he mumbled, searching through the rubble with more vigor. "Where's my passport?"


	5. Busting Out Harry

A/N: ...or Voldemort or Mrs. Mason or Mr. Mason or Buford or Baljeet or Luna Lovegood or...

Harry was having a nightmare.

His barred, locked room had become a cage in a zoo. A shiny plaque on the outside proclaimed him to be a specimen of UNDERAGE WIZARD. His exhibit was between the hissing, laughing snakes and, interestingly enough, the platypuses. They were all making their curious chittering noise. People were goggling at him, pointing, and laughing.

Harry saw Dobby through the iron bars, and implored him for help. Dobby just shook his head, making his great bat-like ears flap like those of an elephant, and squeaked, _"But Sir, Harry Potter is safe there!_" and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Dudley was there, too, laughing at Harry and stuffing his big, fat face with popcorn. He was rattling the bars, and calling Harry names. Harry closed his eyes in his dream, on the verge of bursting into tears...

_Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr..._

Great, were the _platypuses_ laughing at him now, too? Harry tossed and turned in his bed while the dream played out, muttering, "_Dudley, stop it... stupid platypuses... let me go, Dobby..._"

"Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr."

Harry jolted awake. That sound hadn't come from his dream. He heard Hedwig screeching, but when he turned to look, she wasn't screeching at him.

Someone _was _rattling the bars to his cage.

There _was _a platypus making its odd chittering noise at him.

"Hey, Harry!" Phineas Flynn called from outside the window. "It appears that you've gotten yourself into quite a predicament."

"Phineas!" Harry exclaimed, relief drenching his voice. He flung his covers off and ran to the window.

"Oi, Harry!" Ron Weasley waved from the car. "I've got Phineas, Ferb, and their beaver-duck. We're busting you out of here!"

_Wait a second,_ anyone reading this story would say to themselves at this point. _How did three people and one platypus fit inside that tiny, blue Ford Anglia _and _expect to have another person, including his luggage and pet, fit inside, too?_

The answer, very obviously, was – they didn't.

Harry looked out of his window and reeled backwards in shock.

"Is that – is that – a _monster truck_?"

"Yes, yes it is," Phineas said happily, hopping out of the car door and onto the rim of a gigantic wheel. "But it's been modified! We crossed it with our All-Terrain Vehicle and our Greek chariots, to make one sweet ride! What do you think?"

"It's brilliant!" Harry said, beaming. "But how are you going to get me out of here?"

To answer his question, Phineas pulled out a small, gun-like object. But it wasn't a gun. Well, not _technically_. On the side were the words _Random Thing Flinger._

"I'd advise you to step back, Harry," Phineas said kindly. "I don't know what'll come out of it this time, but it might be fast and heavy enough to break the barriers."

Harry grabbed the few wizarding belongings he had in his room, Hedwig, and pressed himself against the side wall, far away from the window. He plugged his ears and prepared for the worst.

Phineas closed one eye and raised his Random Thing Flinger. He only had one shot.

With a steady, determined hand, he pulled the trigger.

A stapler flopped out.

Phineas shrugged and smiled. "Oh, well. It's always worth a shot! Time for plan B."

"Which is...?" Harry prompted.

"We're going to unlock your front door, and then unlock your bedroom door. We'll sneak you out that way."

"Hang on!" Harry interrupted. "But that's breaking and entering! Isn't that illegal?"

Phineas gave Harry a withering glance. He looked at the iron bars bolted to his window, and the can of cold soup that was all he had to eat for the day.

"Oh..." Harry realized. He stepped back from the window. "Right. Child neglect. I'll try to get some of my stuff ready, but most of it is locked up downstairs."

Phineas smiled. "Great! See ya soon. Let's go, guys! Perry, _stay_!"

"_Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr_," Perry chittered.

Phineas, Ferb, and Ron carefully exited the monster truck. Ferb had the thought to prop up a ladder against the door, to make a quick and easy ascent back inside.

"Er... question," Ron asked, as the three of them turned around the corner of the house, sidestepping a crushed lawn gnome. "How exactly do you guys plan on opening the door?"

They stepped up on the concrete block in front of the door. Ferb was rummaging around in his pocket.

"Don't you remember last year?" Phineas asked him. "With the Chamber of the Winged Keys?"

Ron gasped. "Oh...oh, yeah, with the harmonicas."

Ferb finally found what he was looking for. It had been a gift from Santa Claus last year, at Hogwarts; a set of harmonicas that, when the right 'key' was played, open any locked thing.

Ferb raised a tiny harmonica to his mouth, and played a single note.

The front door gave a tiny shudder. There was a light _click _on the other side of the doorknob, and the front door swung open silently.

"Merlin's pants, those things are _brilliant_," Ron said in a reverent whisper.

Ron, Phineas, and Ferb crept into the dark, unnervingly tidy house. They might have heard a tiny noise from the kitchen, but it didn't pique their interest at that time.

Silently, ever so carefully, they scampered up the staircase. "Harry's room is first on the right," Phineas whispered to his friends. "Be really careful, Ferb, with the harmonicas."

"Don't worry," Ferb told him, in a rare moment of dialogue, which caused Ron to jump back in surprise. "It has a 'mute' option."

He pressed a small button on the harmonica and blew through it. No noise came out, but the padlock on his door fell open.

Harry, who had been waiting eagerly on the other side with Hedwig and a handful of wizarding items, stepped out, elated at his freedom.

"Let's get out of here," Harry whispered, shaking with excitement. Even Hedwig seemed to be having hard time not letting out in raucous hooting.

They started sneaking back down the staircase. "My stuff's locked up in the cabinet under the stairs, where I used to sleep. There's my suitcase, with my robes, and a bag with my books, and my wand is in a tiny –"

"_What are you doing here, Potter_?"

Harry, Ron, Phineas, and Ferb froze.

Standing in front of them was Dudley Dursley.

All four of them broke out in sweat. They were discovered! Harry opened his mouth, about to scream _Make a break for it_! He took a deep breath in...

"_Mmm food food food hungry food..._" Dudley muttered.

Harry stopped readying himself to scream and stared. What was going on?

"_Mmm hungry hungry mmmmm..."_ Dudley repeated, his eyes closed. He turned around and wandered into the kitchen, his movements oddly stiff, almost... almost as if...

"Oh, no!" Harry silently cursed. "Dudley's sleep-binging again!"

"Really?" Ron asked. "We were almost found out! It's a miracle that he's just sleeping..."

"But what about unlocking the cupboard?"

Phineas shrugged, ever the optimist. "Well, he's in the kitchen, stuffing his face. It shouldn't be too difficult."

The four friends hopped onto the main floor, where Ferb began searching for the right harmonica again.

"Oh, great!" Ron whispered. "He's coming back!"

"_Mmmm food hungry hungry idiot Harry... food... such a freak..."_ Dudley ambled back to them, clutching something in his chubby fist.

It was a key.

Harry and his friends watched with considerable surprise as Dudley slid the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. The door to the cabinet opened, and Dudley reached into it. His hand withdrew a bag of chocolate.

"That _git_!" Harry hissed. "That was _my_ candy! I _knew _he stole it!"

"Who cares?" Ron asked. "Let's just get your stuff, Harry..."

But Dudley wasn't done. The bag of chocolates that he had stashed in the cupboard was already gone. Dudley stepped forwards again, and this time, pulled out a foot-tall chocolate Easter bunny.

"He's got this whole cupboard stashed with junk food!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief. "He's going to keep coming back! What _now_?"

"Well," Phineas said, still sounding happy, "I guess we'll have to work around him. Let's try the big suitcase first."

It was hard work, and difficult to time. The big suitcase was the hardest to get out – just as they slid it off of the shelf, Dudley came back, reaching for a jug of maple syrup. Ron and Harry dropped the suitcase in haste to get out of his way, but Phineas, who had been behind the suitcase pushing it, was pinned against the wall as Dudley reached for the syrup. After Dudley retreated, they quickly carried the suitcase out of the way and came back for the rest.

With Dudley coming back every five seconds for more food, it took them about ten minutes time to extricate all of Harry's wizardly belongings from the cupboard. But, eventually, they managed to do it, without waking Dudley up from his sleep-binging daze.

"Good, good," Harry encouraged, grabbing as much stuff as he could carry. Now, back to the monster truck, and we'll get out of here."

Dudley was reaching into the cupboard for another article of food. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia was also storing a few teacups in the cupboard. And the pack of Funyuns that Dudley wanted was right next to one.

You draw the conclusion.

The teacup crashed to the floor, the sound it made like a bomb going off. Dudley's eyes snapped open, and he staggered back a few feet in surprise.

Then, he saw Harry, Ron, Phineas, and Ferb.

"DAD! MUM! HARRY'S ESCAPING! GET UP, QUICK, HE'S ESCAPING!" Dudley screamed up the staircase.

"Let's get out of here!" Harry yelled, clutching his things. But Dudley was running at them, and before they could do anything, Dudley had grabbed Phineas by the shirt.

"_HURRY, DAD, I'VE GOT ONE OF HIS FRIENDS! GET UP!_"

"_Let go of Phineas, Dudley_!" Harry commanded, rushing back, trying to pry Phineas away with Ron's help.

There was suddenly a purple- and green-colored blur. Dudley jerked once, and then fell forward, unconscious. Ferb had delivered a spinning kick to Dudley's head, and Phineas was free.

But the diversion had cost them some time. Vernon and Petunia, still in their nightgowns, were rushing down the staircase, with Vernon screaming horrific threats at all four of them. Harry, Phineas, Ferb, and Ron ran out of the front door, trying to evade Harry's cousins from hell.

"Up the ladder, up the ladder, up the ladder!" Ron screamed, ushering the other three into the car, then climbing up himself. Phineas pushed over the ladder, and started up the motor.

"He's trying to climb up!" Harry said, pointing at Vernon Dursley, who was clambering up the humongous wheel of the monster truck.

Phineas smiled. "Ferb, activate Greek chariot weaponry!"

Ferb gave him a thumbs up, and pulled a red lever next to him. A bowling ball catapult sprang up on top of the monster truck.

"Ready..." Phineas said. "Aim... and... _fire_!"

The bowling ball catapult let fly; the four childrens' heads all moved in the same direction as they watched it arch through the starry night sky. With a _clunk_, it hit the top of Vernon Dursley's head.

"VERNON!" Petunia shrieked, rushing forward as he fell off of the tire. "VERNON, SWEETUMS!"

"Let's get outta here!" Phineas yelled. "Wanna do the honors, Perry?"

"_Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr_," Perry answered.

Phineas reached down and scratched a special spot on Perry's side. Perry's tail immediately shot upwards, hitting a button on the dashboard. The monster truck gave a small lurch, and then shot forward.

Harry leaned out the window of the monster truck. Vernon had landed in a bush of poison ivy, which Petunia was trying to pull him out of. Dudley had woken up, and was now sobbing over his Dad, his mouth ringed with chocolate.

He smiled. This would be the last he saw of them for a school year.


	6. De-Gnoming the Garden

A/N: ...or Fred or George or Candace or Linda Flynn or Doofenshmirtz or Cornelius Fudge or...

The all-terrain armed Greek monster truck rambled through the English countryside. Harry was loving the sensation of the wind in his hair, and Hedwig was flying alongside the car, overjoyed to be stretching her wings after weeks of confinement.

"So, Harry," Phineas explained, leaning against the door casually. "We're taking you to Ron's house, where we'll stay until Hogwarts. Here's the thing, though –"

"Mum doesn't know any of you are coming," Ron finished for him. "So, I'll hide you, Phineas, and Ferb upstairs, and then at breakfast, I'll bring you down, saying, 'Oh, Mum, look who showed up during the night,' and that'll be that."

Harry blinked. "Why didn't you tell her?"

Ron gave a hollow laugh. "She'd kill me if I broke into someone's house, even on a rescue mission."

His eyes suddenly darted to the side of the monster truck. "Oi, Phineas, your beaver-duck is wearing a watch and a hat."

"What?" Phineas asked, turning around.

Perry was sitting on a chair, wearing neither of those two, looking like quite the ordinary platypus.

Ron rubbed his eyes. "What? Sorry, Phineas, I could have sworn..."

As the boys turned back to chat, Perry the platypus sat up in his chair. He put his fedora back on, and smoothed out the rim.

He had become Agent P.

Perry turned his watch back on, and crawled behind the seat this time, for extra privacy.

"Ah, sorry about that, Agent P," Major Monogram apologized. "I forgot that you were in England again, and was wondering why you didn't show up at your hideout. Anyways, Agent P, I wish to inform you of some... very familiar circumstances. As you know, your nemesis, Doctor Doofenshmirtz, has recently destroyed his evil headquarters. But this, unfortunately, is no reason to celebrate. Usually, Doofenshmirtz just has the lair rebuilt, but this time, he's maxed out his insurance.

"His new goal – follow you to this Hogwarts castle in England –"

"Actually, Sir," Carl interrupted, "Hogwarts is in Scotland."

"Stop reading books, Carl!" Major Monogram shouted angrily. "So, Agent P, the Doof plans to follow you to Hogwarts, destroy you, and take over the castle as his new lair. At least for a year," Major Monogram added. "Your mission, as always – thwart his evil schemes, but don't alert your host family to your true identity. Last year was too close a call. I don't want it to happen again."

The image of Major Monogram on Perry's wrist communicator nodded his head. "So, go and stop that madman. Good luck, Agent P."

With that, Monogram's picture flickered and faded, replaced by a black screen.

... ... ...

"Here we are," Ron said grimly, waving out the window to a wooden sort of tower along the road. The sun was just barely poking out of the horizon, bathing the sky in red and pink colors.

"We're just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole now," he continued. "A few wizards live around here, Mum says."

Phineas pressed a button on the dashboard, and the monster truck slowed to a stop. "We'd better get out here and walk the rest of the way. It might be a bit difficult to convince your Mom that we just 'showed up' when there's a huge monster truck parked outside."

"Right, right," Ron mumbled, rubbing his eyes again, tired from the rescue mission.

The four friends and one platypus climbed down from the monster truck. Ferb pulled out a set of keys and locked the door.

"Cool!" Phineas said happily. He set his eyes on the house ahead of them. "Let's go!"

After walking for a few minutes, they got close enough to actually see what the house looked like. Harry held up a hand to block the sun and surveyed the house. It was very tall, and appeared to be made of many boxes stacked on top of one another.

"The Burrow," Ron told them, as they stepped off the dirt path and onto the house's walkway. He opened the gate and directed them all inside.

"Remember, mates," he reminded, going on tiptoes, "we've got to be really quiet. My Mum's got ears like a bat, and if she hears us, we're toast –"

"RONALD WEASLEY! JUST WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, YOUNG MAN?"

There was a rather plump, ginger woman standing in front of their path. If looks could kill, Ron would have snuffed it right there.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME WERE YOU THINKING?" she continued, storming up to them furiously.

Ron was speechless. "But – but – how did – how did you -"

The woman whipped out a few sheets of paper and waved them in Ron's face. "I printed off a copy of the last chapter. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THAT WAS? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SEEN, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ARRESTED, YOU COULD HAVE LOST YOUR FATHER HIS JOB –"

"How?" Ron asked incredulously.

"NO BACK TALK, YOUNG MAN!" Mrs. Weasley barked at him.

Phineas tentatively raised a hand. "Uh, Mrs. Weasley? I'd just like to state that this was all our idea. Not Ron's."

"They were starving him, Mum!" Ron objected.

Mrs. Weasley turned to Phineas and Ferb. She seemed less angry, but still frustrated.

"Your idea, you say?"

Phineas nodded. "Uh... yeah."

Mrs. Weasley breathed out through her teeth. She ran her fingers through her hair.

"So, you're Phineas and Ferb Flynn-Fletcher?" she asked after a while.

"Yep!" Phineas said.

Ferb gave her a thumbs-up.

She sighed again. "I hope you two realize how dangerous that was."

Phineas shrugged. "Well, something had to be done. So we did it. After all, it couldn't have been more dangerous than confronting a turban-wearing, two-faced, crazy Hogwarts professor last year. And that went well enough."

"But Harry was the one who disintegrated him," Ferb pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Phineas admitted. "That did play a large part in it."

Mrs. Weasley gave a small start. She turned to Harry, and her countenance changed at once. "Oh, Harry, dear! I almost forgot that you arrived with them. I don't blame you at all, of course. Come on in; breakfast is getting itself ready."

Harry stuttered. "Er... er... thanks, Mrs. Weasley... I'm... I'm sorry..."

"Oh, don't apologize, Harry, dear. Just go in and have something to eat."

"Man, I'm starving," Ron said, going in to follow Harry.

"Oh, not you!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply, grabbing Ron by the shoulder. "You're de-gnoming the garden before you eat, Ronald."

Harry stopped in his tracks. "De-gnoming? What's that?"

Mrs. Weasley was pushing Ron along to the garden. She glanced over her shoulder at Harry. "Oh, it's nothing, dear, just a chore."

"I've never seen a de-gnoming before."

"It's not much to see, mate," Ron grumbled. "Just tossing gnomes out of the yard. And they've got a nasty bite."

Phineas perked up immediately. "Actually, Ferb and I have never seen one, either. Can we watch? Maybe we can help!"

"That's nice, Phineas, but I doubt we'll need it," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. Her cheeks flushed with red, and she gave a little laugh. "Not with Lockhart's book about household chores!"

"Mum adores him," Ron explained.

"No, I DON'T!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Now go out there, and I don't want a single gnome left, understood, Ronald?"

"Yes, Mum," he muttered dejectedly.

The backyard of the Weasleys' was a mad tangle of shrubs and bushes. Ron led Harry, Phineas, and Ferb to one of the shrubs, and bent over, apparently searching for something.

"Muggles have lawn gnomes, too, you know," Harry said, trying to be helpful.

"Yeah... little fat Santa Clauses..." Ron muttered. "I've seen those things... not nearly as dangerous or destructive as these... "

"Well, actually," Phineas said matter-of-factly, "when Ferb and I built a beach, a volcano appeared and rained down lawn gnomes all over the place. Several injuries were sustained, and our fence still has holes where the gnomes made holes."

Ron stopped searching in the bush. "Really?"

"Uh-huh."

Ron nodded. "Wicked. In the wizarding world, this," he said, holding something potato-like in his fist, which had been in the bush, "is a real gnome."

"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" the gnome squealed. It looked like a moldy potato with a face and some limbs.

Ron swung the gnome in circles, and let it fly. It spun in circles over the hedge, and walked away in a dizzy, swaying manner.

Phineas blinked. "Wait – that's a de-gnoming?"

"Yep," Ron said, picking up another gnome and starting to swing.

Phineas bent down, and grabbed a lawn gnome for himself. "It doesn't seem to be the most efficient method of getting rid of a common pest."

Ferb raised his hand.

"Oh, what is it, Ferb?"

Ferb pointed down at a gnome and drew a 'V' in the air.

"Oh!"

Harry was confused. "What? He didn't say anything."

"Sometimes, Harry," Phineas said, rummaging through his pocket, "words are not needed for talking. We'll be right back!"

Harry and Ron watched as Phineas and Ferb disappeared around the corner of the house.

"What do you suppose they're up to?" Ron asked.

"Who knows? Maybe they're building something for lawn de-gnoming." Harry closed his eyes and listened. Sure enough, in the background, he heard the banging of a hammer, the whoosh of a blowtorch, and the clicking of some other, unidentifiable tool.

Harry also heard something else. He strained his ears. Parts of... some sort of song drifted lightly through the air...

"Scoopy-op, dooby-op, dooby de-bee dee da..."

He decided to ignore it.

A few minutes later, as Ron and Harry were discussing Quidditch stratagem, something odd happened.

The ground began to shake.

From behind the Burrow emerged a great, metallic, gigantic...

Vacuum cleaner. A cockpit was attached to the top.

"Hey, guys!" Phineas waved from the cockpit. "So, Ferb read that lawn gnomes typically have all their burrows connected. So, if we put the tube of this vacuum into one, we can suck all the lawn gnomes out, and then deposit them in the area of your choice! Say hello to the Gnome-Vac!"

Harry and Ron were still dumbstruck at the gigantic vacuum cleaner. It was so tall that it blocked the rapidly rising sun and left the two boys standing in its shadow. It was like looking up at a tremendous giant, able to squash you without even thinking about it.

"Where'd you... where'd you...?" Ron stammered, backing up.

"Oh, there's this shed with a bunch of Muggle technology over there. We just found a regular vacuum cleaner, enlarged it, constructed a cockpit, welded it onto the top, and messed with the controls a bit. You know - same old, same old."

"Same... old... same... what...?" Ron mumbled, still traumatized.

"Time to get to work!" Phineas announced happily. He pressed a button on the dashboard, and a giant vacuum tube descended from the top. Ferb, who was on the ground, took the tube, and stuck it in a lawn gnome hole.

"Let's see just what this puppy can do!" Phineas said. He pressed another button. "Engaging vacuum: full power!"

The ground began to shake violently. Harry and Ron held onto each other for support, but even that didn't keep them from falling over.

They could see, through the clear vacuum tube, gnome after gnome flying up the tube, and then dropping down into the holding chamber. Already, it was half-full, and more gnomes were rapidly falling in. Harry closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together, waiting for the insane vibrating and deafening noise to stop...

Silence. It almost seemed as if every noise on Earth had been stopped. Harry's ears were ringing, and his vision was still shaking as he stood up.

The Gnome-Vac was full of ugly, mottled, potato-like gnomes. They all looked just as dizzy as the wizards.

Phineas opened up the cockpit and waved. "Cool, huh? It seems to have worked quite nicely."

From the ground, Ferb gave a thumbs-up.

"Where do you want these gnomes, Ron?"

Ron shrugged, still in semi-shock. "Well... I'd just always throw them over there, in that area..."

"Okay!"

The ear-splitting rumble resumed, as Phineas turned the Gnome-Vac back on, this time in reverse. Ferb pointed the tube towards the horizon, and held it there as gnomes shot like bullets out of the tube. It was one of the most bizarre sights either Harry or Ron had ever seen.

When the Gnome-Vac was empty again, Ron and Harry ran to the edge of the hedges, and watched the gnomes clumsily get to their feet again, and stumble off away from the Burrow.

"Blimey!" Ron breathed. "That was wicked!"

Phineas smiled. "Yes. Yes, it was."

"Usually it takes... it takes, like, a half hour to de-gnome the place... You did it in three minutes!" Ron exclaimed.

"SWEET MERLIN, WHAT IS THAT?"

Mrs. Weasley appeared from the front door, clutching her wand in a shaky hand. Apparently, she had been standing there for a few minutes, but had been too shocked to say anything.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Weasley!" Phineas waved from the cockpit. "Lawn de-gnoming is completed. Do you want to keep the Gnome-Vac, or should we dismantle it?"

Mrs. Weasley was still staring, dumbfounded, at the contraption.

Finally, she tore her eyes away, and fixed Ron in a strangely wide-eyed glare.

"Why don't you boys come inside for some breakfast?"


	7. At the Weasleys'

A/N: ... or Scabbers or Roger Doofenshmirtz or Agent W or Terry Boot or Pavarti Patil or Padma Patil...

Breakfast at the Weasley's was very nice. Phineas, Ferb, and Harry were all sitting down at the table as the rest of the family came down. It was quite a shock for everybody, to see the Boy Who Lived, Phineas, and Ferb together, especially since, nowadays, those three names commanded exactly the same respect.

Fred and George were quite excited to see Phineas and Ferb, because they needed advice on how to neutralize doxie poison for use in a 'project.' Percy's reaction was the best. He came down the stairs like he was descending a marble staircase, and when he saw the three visitors, stopped in his tracks and stumbled backwards a bit. He turned green in the face, and stared at the three of them. He then asked Mrs. Weasley, in his most official, important voice, exactly what _they _were doing here.

Phineas and Ferb were now chatting with Fred and George about ideas for new 'projects.'

"So, I like this whole canary cream idea," Phineas said. "But the Ton-Tongue Toffees sound a bit dangerous. Are you sure they'd sell?"

"Course!" Fred exclaimed. "And it wears off after a few minutes, don't worry."

Suddenly, there was a small _crack _of someone Apparating outside.

"Dad's home!" Ron said.

Arthur Weasley walked through the front door, looking weary but cheerful.

"Morning, Weasleys!"

"Morning, Dad!" the boys answered.

"What a night!" Mr. Weasley moaned. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundugnus tried to hex me when my back was turned." He plopped down in a chair, and reached for the toast and the butter.

"We've got some visitors today, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said, sliding some fried eggs from her pan onto his plate.

"Do we?" Mr. Weasley asked absentmindedly, buttering his toast.

"Yes, Harry came last night."

"Harry? Harry who?"

He turned around, and saw Harry at the other end of the table, eating his breakfast. Harry waved.

"Good lord," Mr. Weasley laughed. "Harry _Potter_?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and Phineas and Ferb came last night too."

Mr. Weasley dropped his toast. And the butter.

"_Phineas_?" he asked in a whisper. "And _Ferb_? The _Flynn-Fletchers?_"

Phineas looked away from his conversation with George. "Oh, hi!"

"Phineas!" Mr. Weasley nearly shouted. He stood up from his chair, and raced over to Phineas and Ferb's place. He took both of their hands and pumped them up and down vigorously.

"I've heard so much about you!" he exclaimed, still shaking their hands. "It's _wonderful _to finally meet you... Ron's told me so _much_! The wizard wand... made _totally _of Muggle science!"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley reproached. "But _Harry Potter _is here." She pointed her frying pan at Harry.

"Oh, yes, hi, Harry. So, _Phineas_, we have so much to _talk _about! Sit down, sit down, please..." he said, pushing George Weasley out of his chair and taking his place.

"Dad flipped when I got home and said a Muggle had gone to Hogwarts," Ron said, as Mr. Weasley opened a handheld notebook and flipped through the pages madly.

"Phineas Flynn-Fletcher," Mr. Weasley said, roughly pushing Ron aside. "What an _honor_, I would just like to say, Phineas, I've been _dying _to talk to you. As soon as Ron told me, I prepared a list of questions to ask you. Let's start with number one out of two thousand, five hundred and forty-two. What, _precisely... _is the function of a rubber duck?"

"Well!" Phineas began eagerly, making space for Ferb to sit down next to him. "Its common use is for distracting immature Muggles while parents subconsciously stuff propaganda about hygiene into their minds. But Ferband I found that it also makes an _excellent_ stabilizer for the co-axial connecting point in a propeller. In this way, we built a giant paper airplane that made it all the way across Danville with just one throw!"

Mr. Weasley began scribbling down the answer in his notebook. "Hygiene... coal axe-all point..."

"No, no, that's _co-axial _point," Phineas corrected.

"Cloak _Accio_-point?"

Phineas shook his head. "You're not getting this. Why don't we start at the beginning? How much about Muggle technology do you _know_?"

"Loads!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "I've spent my whole life devoted to the non-magical technology. I made a special case study on fellytones and the Winter-net in 1926!"

Phineas and Ferb blinked simultaneously. The stepbrothers gave each other a look.

"Why don't we begin with something simple, like the Periodic Table of the Elements?" Phineas suggested to Mr. Weasley. "After that, we can move on to topics like chemistry, physics, electricity, string theory, M-Theory, and rubber ducks."

Suddenly, outside of the kitchen window, something big and bird-sounding _smash_ed into the glass panes.

"Oi!" Ron called, standing up. "Errol's back!"

"Who's Errol?" Harry asked, as he was telling Mrs. Weasley as nicely as he could that he didn't really want fifths of bacon.

"Our owl. He's older than Dumbledore, I think." Ron took the parcel of letters from Errol, and set the owl down on a stack of books to rest. He looked at the names, and distributed the letters.

"Oh, Harry, looks like Dumbledore knows you're here already. Same goes for Phineas and Ferb," Ron noted, giving them their letters.

Phineas immediately tore his letter open and took out the list of items. At first, he seemed fine, but as he read on, a slight frown creased on his forehead. He seemed confused.

Harry noticed Phineas's expression. "What is it?"

"Our book list seems a little repetitive. All but one book is by this dude named Lockhart."

Ron opened his letter to check. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher must be a witch. Probably a huge fan."

Mrs. Weasley sighed through her teeth. "Oh, dear. Lockhart's a brilliant man, but his books are anything but cheap. We'll have to give Ginny some more hand-me-down things to save up. Ron, dear, do you think you could spare a few pairs of pants? How about some shirts and socks?"

"So, _Phineas_," Mr. Weasley resumed, turning him and Ferb towards him again. "Tell me more about this _table of elements_. I know about Earth, Water, Fire, Air, and Ether. But you say there are more?"

"You know what an atom is, right?" Phineas asked.

"An Adam?"

"No, an _atom_."

"I ... don't follow you, Phineas. What is an _ah_-tom?"

Phineas pointed over to the blackboard that Ferb had just (very conveniently) rolled in. "Well, Ferb has already made a drawing of the basic parts of the common Hydrogen atom. We'd be happy to educate you in standard Muggle eighth-grade science."

Harry was trying to eat the third bowl of porridge that Mrs. Weasley had insisted he eat when Ron scooted his chair over to him.

"Sorry, Harry," he whispered. "I know my family is really weird. And our house is so small, compared to that place you were staying before."

"Are you joking?" Harry laughed, leaning back and watching Errol fall off the stack of books. "This is the best house I've ever been in."


	8. Lucius Malfoy is Thwarted

A/N: ... or Neville Longbottom or Major Monogram or Carl the intern or Dean Thomas or Carrie the Cephalopod or Professor Quirrel or...

"Wait, it's... it's called _flue _powder? As in the chimney flue?"

"No, dear," Mrs. Weasley corrected Phineas. "It's _floo _powder. There is absolutely, no way that they could possibly be connected or one derived from the other. And we'll be using it to go the Diagon Alley right now."

Phineas, Ferb, Harry, and Ron, were standing in the Weasley living room, in front of the fireplace. Mr. Weasley was reaching his hand inside a flower pot, trying to scrape something off the sides and the bottom. Evidently, they were a little low.

"Now," Mrs. Weasley said, as Mr. Weasley finally scraped off enough for travel. "Since this is Harry, Phineas, and Ferb's first time, why don't you go first, Ronald? Show them how it's done."

Ron took a handful of this grayish-greenish powder. He stepped into the fireplace, and waved at Harry.

"Don't dally, Ronald, show them."

"All right, all right," Ron muttered. He raised his fist, and threw the floo powder down in the chimney. "Diagon Alley!" he shouted.

Green flames shot up from the fireplace, engulfing Ron from head to toe. Harry held up a hand to protect his eyes. Phineas and Ferb just put on some sunglasses.

"See, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said. "Nothing to it. Why don't you, Phineas, and Feb go in together? The three of you can fit in, and get it over with."

"Uh... okay..." Harry said, still feeling dazed from watching his best friend become engulfed in emerald fire and vanish, presumably travelling, but possibly incinerated.

"Now, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, as the three children climbed into the fireplace. "There are a few things to remember. Say your destination clearly and distinctly, don't fidget, and _don't panic. _Do you have your towel?"

"What?"

"Never mind. All set?"

"Sure!" Phineas said, eager to try this new mode of transportation.

Ferb gave a thumbs-up.

"Take handful, Harry," Mrs. Weasley encouraged. She held out the flower pot, and Harry managed to salvage a fistful.

Harry opened his mouth, and thrust the powder on the ground. "Diagon All- _ugh_!" he coughed, as a cloud of the powder shot up his mouth and stuck on the back of his throat.

Harry had the sudden feeling of going on a roller coaster. All he could see were green flames, flying all over the place, and fireplaces zoomed past them faster than they could imagine. Harry tried to speak, but more of the soot got up his mouth.

Suddenly, the fire seemed to spit the three of them out, and Harry landed face-first on a hard floor. He heard a _snap. _Harry brushed the soot off of his face and opened his eyes warily.

Phineas and Ferb were helping each other up. "Well, that was a totally unpredictable outcome of that situation. Need help, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said gratefully, taking Phineas's hand and standing up.

Ferb raised his hand, and pointed to Harry's broken glasses. He plucked the glasses off of his head, pulled out a roll of duct tape, and repaired them.

"Oh... thanks, Ferb..."

They appeared to be in a shop of some sort. It was dimly lit, and everything had a greenish aura to it. Human skulls, hands, and... other body parts... were displayed in cabinets. Evil-looking masks glared at them from the walls.

"Huh," Phineas said. "Odd sort of place."

"Where _are _we?" Harry wondered out loud, wandering around the shop, looking at the stuff.

Phineas shrugged. "It's probably close to Diagon Alley. Maybe we just overshot it by a fireplace or two."

"Oh, Ferb," Phineas added, addressing his stepbrother, "you _might _not want to touch that. The note says it's cursed."

Ferb nodded, and put down the opal necklace he had picked up.

Harry blinked. "Wait, how did you pick that up without _dying_?"

"Someone's coming!" Phineas said suddenly, pointing to the shop's door. Through the tinted windows, they could see two black silhouettes walking down the street.

"In this cabinet!" Harry exclaimed, opening the doors and throwing himself inside. Phineas and Ferb followed suit.

The cabinet was dark and cramped, and Phineas had to sit on Harry's head to fit. Harry let the door stay just the tiniest bit open so that they could see when it was safe to come out again.

Two people walked into the store. One of them was easily recognizable – Draco Malfoy. The other person was a lot older, but had the same colored hair and smirk. Harry figured that that was his dad.

As the shop bell rung, an oily-haired man ran out of a room in the back. "Mister Malfoy!"

"Mister Borgin," Draco's father returned, inclining his head.

"For what do I owe the... the _pleasure_?"

Mr. Malfoy drummed his fingers on the counter. Beneath them, horrible things twisted and turned in glass jars, suspended in gruesome-looking liquid. "I'm here, not to buy, but to... er, _sell_."

Draco looked at his father with surprise. "I thought you were going to buy me a present."

"I said I would get you a racing broom."

Draco sighed, and stepped up on his tiptoes to look at a shelf of cursed talismans. "And what'll be the good of that, if I'm not even on the House team? You know, wonderful _Potter _got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Everybody _worships _Potter at school... he and his little _Gryffindor friends..."_

"So, Mister Borgin," Draco's father continued. "I have a list of items in Malfoy Manor that, if the Ministry were to call, might cause me some – ah – _trouble_. And I'm offering them for exceptionally _reasonable _prices..."

Mr. Malfoy handed the list to the shop owner.

Mr. Borgin's eyes sifted down through the list of items. "I see. So, the Ministry hasn't had you searched yet?"

"No," Malfoy said, stiffening somewhat. "My family name still commands a certain respect, but I have always been careful."

Mr. Borgin nodded sympathetically. "I know. Pure blood is counting for less and less, all across the country."

"Even at Hogwarts," Draco muttered. "Can you believe that there's a _Muggle – _an honest to goodness _Muggle_ – attending Hogwarts?"

"I've heard," Borgin replied, handing the list back to Mr. Malfoy. "It's Phineas Flynn-Fletcher, isn't it? Filthy Muggle. I'm _appalled_. It's a school of magic! They shouldn't even allow Mudbloods in that school."

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "I know, and completely agree. But the good news is it'll make for a very watertight case against that buffoon of a headmaster, Dumbledore. Not that I need it, of course, but it will help."

Mr. Malfoy had a very nasty sort of smirk on his face.

"Planning something, are you, Malfoy?" Mr. Borgin asked eagerly, noticing the expression.

"Let's just say that, this year at Hogwarts is going to be... _interesting_. I'm having this strange premonition that both Arthur Weasley and Dumbledore might be victims of some rather unfortunate happenings. But you didn't hear that from me, Mr. Borgin."

Mr. Borgin winked. "For a galleon, my lips are sealed."

Draco's father rolled his eyes, and deposited a shining gold coin into Mr. Borgin's open palm.

"Thank you very much, sir," Mr. Borgin said, giving a shallow bow. "Good day to you, and young Master Draco as well."

Draco Malfoy and his father walked out of the store. As soon as they were gone, Mr. Borgin spat in their direction, and tossed the galleon up in the air. "Right, _Mister _Malfoy. If the rumors I've heard are true, you're not telling me about _half _of what you've got locked up in that manor of yours..."

With that, Mr. Borgin retreated to the back room again. Harry, Phineas, and Ferb waited for a few minutes, and when they heard nothing, quietly crept out of the cabinet. Harry closed the doors behind him, and the three friends left the store.

The street that they found themselves on was very dark and dirty. The buildings were cramped and close together, making it feel like they were wandering through a filthy canyon.

"How do we get out of here?" Harry asked, feeling dread coil in his stomach. He tried to ignore the shrunken heads in the window opposite Borgin and Burkes.

"Not _lost,_ are we, dearies?" An old, ugly woman had stepped up to the three of them. She was holding a tray of what seemed like human fingernails for sale.

"No, we're fine," Harry assured, backing up. "We know exactly where we are..."

"'ARRY! PHINEAS! FERB!"

A giant of a man stood under a lamp, with a thick, frazzled beard.

"Hagrid!" Phineas exclaimed. "Boy, are we glad to see you!"

"Leave 'em alone," Hagrid growled at the fingernail lady, who had reached out a hand for Harry. "They're with me, they are..."

"What are you doing here, Hagrid?" Harry asked, as the Hogwarts gamekeeper steered the three friends down the winding streets.

"Me? I'm buyin' flesh-eatin' slug repellent. But what in Merlin's name were _you _doin' there, ye three?"

"First time on the Floo Network," Phineas explained happily. "We got off at the wrong grate."

The narrow, dirty street had finally come to an end. Harry recognized Gringotts bank, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"What _was _that place?" Phineas asked.

"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid growled darkly. "Dodgy place, if ye ask me. Don't want ter be caught skulking around there, if ye know what's good for ye."

"Harry! Phineas! Ferb!" Mrs. Weasley came running from across the alleyway, holding a parcel of books under her arm. She tried to dust off Harry, and fixed his glasses with a quick spell. "Oh, thank you, Hagrid, for finding them... I hoped you'd only gone one grate too far..."

"It was nothin', Mrs. Weasley," Hagrid answered. "Well, I'm off. See yer at Hogwarts!"

"Come on!" Mrs. Weasley said, ushering them towards the bookshop, Flourish and Blotts. "There's a special surprise inside!"

There was an enormous line streaming out of Flourish and Blotts. It was mostly composed of young girls, all of which were clutching copies of a purple-bound book. The other Weasleys were standing at the end of the line.

"Blimey, guys, you're all _filthy_," Ron said, trying to brush Harry, Phineas, and Ferb off. "Mum wants us all to look good – Lockhart's in there."

"Lockhart?" Harry asked blankly. Then he remembered what Mrs. Weasley had said about the gnome pests. "Oh, he's that author of the book on household pests."

"Hardly!" Ron said. "That's just one of his other books. He's really famous. He fights monsters, and rubbish like that. And our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the huge fan, wants us to buy all of them."

The line began to crawl forward, allowing the Weasleys, Harry, Phineas, and Ferb to enter the shop. Purple books were stacked in every corner, and the man on the cover blasted lightning bolts out of his hands every few seconds. Signs all over the walls proclaimed – _GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography, MAGICAL ME, today, from 12:30 PM to 4:30 PM. _

"Just our luck," Harry grumbled, sinking back against the wall.

Unfortunately, the 'wall' was actually just a wall of _Magical Me_ books, and the whole thing fell down as soon as Harry touched it, with an enormous _crash _that alerted the whole bookstore.

Harry scrambled to his feet and tried to restack the books quickly. Ron, Phineas, and Ferb helped.

"Oh, great," Ron seethed. "The whole bloody _shop _is staring at us..."

"My books!"

The loud wail was enough to make all four of them stop. Harry, Ron, Phineas, and Ferb turned around slowly. All were immediately blinded by someone in a violently purple robe, as he stood, aghast. It was Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Look what you've done!" he shouted. "You'll have to pay for _every single one _you've damaged, you no-good little... little..."

Lockhart's voice trailed off as he saw whom he was addressing.

"Oh... oh, my goodness... it can't be _Harry Potter!_"

Harry gulped. Not _again_.

Lockhart looked positively delighted. His demeanor changed instantly. "Oh, don't worry about those books, boys, I'll get them cleaned up in a jiffy. Come here, come here, Harry! Together, you and I are worth the front page."

"I'm really sorry, sir," Harry tried to say, as Lockhart dragged up to the front of the bookstore. "We didn't mean to knock the books down... "

Lockhart then proceeded to give Harry all his books for free, and the Daily Prophet photographer snapped a few dozen pictures.

When Harry finally got out of Lockhart's iron grip, he stumbled over to Ron, Phineas, and Ferb.

"How was it?" Ron asked eagerly.

"What do you mean?" Harry tried to blink spots out of his eyes. "It was terrible."

But before Harry could say anything else, a blond boy walked up to the small group.

"Well, well, well. Famous Harry Potter," Draco Malfoy drawled. "His little blood traitor friend, the odd, quiet green-haired one, and the _Muggle_. Can't even go into a book shop without making the front page, eh, Potter?"

"I didn't _want _it to be like this," Harry said angrily, still trying to regain his full vision. "I didn't _ask _him to take up my front."

Draco sneered at him. He turned to Phineas. "And then there's _you_, you little Muggle. Going back to Hogwarts this year?"

Phineas smiled. "Yes, yes I am."

"You don't _belong _there, Muggle. You aren't a wizard, not even a _Mudblood_. And in my opinion, Mudbloods shouldn't be allowed there, _either_."

"Well, everybody's got their own opinion, right?" Phineas asked, still quite chipper. "Even if that opinion is somewhat chauvinistic, xenophobic, and antagonistic."

Draco blinked.

Then he shook his head to clear it and pointed his finger Phineas angrily. "Don't try and fool me with your stupid Muggle vocabulary!"

"Boys!" Mr. Weasley came over quickly, bringing Ginny with him. "Boys, what's this about?"

"Why, Arthur Weasley. If it isn't the old Muggle-lover himself." Draco's father came walking over now, holding some books in his hand. "What a surprise, to see you, here..."

Arthur Weasley eyed Mr. Malfoy coldly, though he tried to hide it. "Hello, Lucius. How are you doing?"

"Quite well, yes..."

Lucius Malfoy looked at Phineas with clear contempt. Phineas smiled back up at him.

"So, you're the little Muggle who infiltrated Hogwarts."

"Yes, yes I am."

"I certainly hope that you're proud of defying the Wizard Stature of Secrecy," Lucius continued to drawl.

"Yes, yes I am."

Mr. Malfoy was at a loss. Usually, he could drive wizards crazy with this sort of talk. This Muggle just wasn't breaking.

"Well, then, I suppose that... that you're _happy _about breaking thousands of years of tradition... making Hogwarts a laughingstock... "

"Yes, yes I am."

Lucius's eye twitched. "Stop saying that!"

"It's my catchphrase."

His attempts to intimate Phineas falling flat on its face, Lucius turned to Ferb. "And you're his brother, aren't you?"

Ferb nodded.

Lucius swished his cape a little bit, and cocked his head. "So, you hold magical ability in this low of esteem? Letting Muggle relatives hitch a ride and leech off of our magic?"

Ferb blinked.

Lucius swished his cloak again. "Well? Say something!"

Ferb blinked again.

"Lucius!" Arthur Weasley said, somewhat angrily. "This has gone far enough. Stop picking on Phineas and Ferb!"

Lucius gave a little snort. He sauntered over to where Arthur stood with Ginny.

"You have no ground to order me around," he sneered. "I doubt you would even have enough money to afford a lawyer. I mean, look at this." He picked up Ginny's books to examine them. "All of these are secondhand."

With that, he dumped them back in the cauldron.

Phineas squinted his eyes. "Hey, wait a second. Did you just put a new book in with Ginny's stuff?"

Lucius Malfoy gave a small start. "Wha - what? Don't be ridiculous!"

"No, really, I'm _pretty_ sure that you put a new book in there."

"That's absurd!"

Phineas started to reach in. Lucius Malfoy grabbed his hand.

"There's nothing in there, Muggle! Now stop, before I hex you!"

Phineas pulled out his Muggle wand. "Flipendo!"

Lucius Malfoy was suddenly blasted back ten feet, turning end over end as he flew, and eventually slamming into a bookshelf. The books fell forward, burying him under an avalanche of literature.

"DADDY!" Draco Malfoy wailed, rushing forward to his father.

"Phineas!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.

"Phineas!" Harry yelled.

"Phineas!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "What an extraordinary display of non-magical technology, used with a spell incantation! How marvelous!"

Phineas now went up to Ginny's cauldron, and picked up a small black book. "Yeah, this wasn't in there before. Thought so."

"YOU LITTLE...!"

Lucius Malfoy was rising to his feet, using the bookshelves for support. "When I tell the Ministry that you used that... that _thing _against me, they'll lock you up in Azkaban faster than you can... than you can..."

He stood there for a few moments, trying to find the right word, but only managing to stutter a little bit.

Ferb walked up to Mr. Malfoy. He handed him the black book that he had tried to give to Ginny.

"I'll take that!" Lucius spat, snatching the book away from Ferb. He swished his cloak dramatically and turned to his son. "Come, Draco! Muggles and Mudbloods make me _sick_. AND YOU!"

Lucius used the little black book to point at Phineas. "You haven't seen the last of me, Muggle! And if you go back to Hogwarts, you'll get what's coming to you, I SWEAR IT!"

"It doesn't have anything to do with that book, does it?" Phineas asked, staring at the book.

"NO!" Lucius roared, far too quick to be the truth. He swished his cloak again, and he and Draco exited the store. But before they left, Lucius turned around and gave Phineas an exceptionally dirty look, and tapped the book with his hand.

Phineas blinked. He turned to Ferb. "Does anyone else have the feeling that we just altered the plot in some kind of major way?"

Ferb raised his hand.


	9. The Ride to Hogwarts

A/N: ... or Lavender Brown or Cho Chang or Lawrence Fletcher or Hedwig or Crookshanks or That Random Kid From The Rollercoaster Episode Who Suggested They Take Down The Poster To See If They Could Get In For Free And Thereby Depriving Candace Of The Evidence She Was Going To Show Her Mom Which Caused Candace To Go And Scream At Some Cheese or...

The rest of the week at the Weasleys' house was wonderful. Harry soon got used to the ghoul upstairs banging on pipes, and the small explosions that came from Fred and George's room, and the notable increase in small explosions that came from Fred and George's room when Phineas and Ferb were in it as well.

He loved spending time in Ron's room, talking about his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, and reading his copies of wizarding comics. Almost all of them were about Martin the Mad Muggle, but Harry took no offense.

Finally, the day came. Harry was eager to return to his school of magic, and woke up bright and early that morning.

"_Gotta get back to Hogwarts_," he sang under his breath, trying to straighten out his hair. _"Gotta get back to school..._"

"Oh, hi, Harry!" Phineas called, walking into the room with Ferb. "Ready to go back?"

"Are you kidding? I can't wait!" Harry exclaimed, finally realizing that his hair was a lost cause. "_Back to witches, and wizards, and magical beasts_..."

"Well, breakfast is ready," Phineas told him, walking back out of the room.

When Harry went down the stairs for breakfast, humming about goblins and ghosts and magical feasts, the whole Weasley family was there waiting for him. Everyone scarfed down their breakfast and hauled their luggage down to the family room, before dragging it out to the old Ford Anglia that the Weasleys owned. The car had been magically expanded to allow the entire family to fit inside.

"Wow!" Phineas said, opening the door and closing it several times, checking out the Undetectable Extension Charm. "How neat is that?"

"Oh, it's really nothing," Fred said, leaning against the car. He gave it a loving pat on the roof. "It's just an old Ford Anglia. Not like it can _fly _or anything."

"Phineas! Ferb!" Mrs. Weasley called, shutting the trunk. "Get in, boys, we're leaving!"

Phineas glanced around. "Hey, where's Perry?"

"_Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr_..." Perry chittered, waddling into view. Unbeknownst to any of the humans, he had been getting updates from Major Monogram about Doofenshmirtz's progress.

It was a tight fit, even with the Undetectable Extension Charm. Percy kept complaining that, with his status as school Prefect, he deserved more space. Fred and George kept yelling at Percy to stop being such a prat, to general agreement. Phineas held Perry under his arm.

"Right? Everybody ready?" Mr. Weasley asked. "Then we're off!"

_Later that afternoon_...

"BACK TO WITCHES, AND WIZARDS, AND MAGICAL BEASTS, BACK TO GOBLINS AND GHOSTS AND TO MAGICAL FEASTS! IT'S ALL THAT I LOVE, AND ALL THAT I NEED – HOGWARTS! HOGWARTS!"

The car shook back and forth, as every Weasley waved their arms in the air as they sang, except Arthur (he was driving) and Percy (he was a prat).

"We're here!" Mrs. Weasley announced, cutting off the joyful singing. "King's Cross Station! Park it there, Arthur."

The Weasleys unloaded all of their things and got luggage carts. Harry could tell that Hedwig was excited, too, as he put her cage on the luggage cart.

"We're almost there, Hedwig," he told her, stroking her head feathers. "Just a train ride away."

"All right, Fred, George, you go first," Mrs. Weasley instructed, as they reached Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. "Then Percy, Ginny, Arthur and me, and then you four boys. That way, if anything were to happen to you, none of us would be able to turn around, know about it, or help. Let's go!"

Fred and George sped through the post, making sure no Muggles were watching. Percy held his nose high in the air and paraded through the column with the air of a king. Finally, Ginny walked through with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Ready, guys?" Phineas asked, clutching the handle of his luggage cart tighter. "Let's do this thing!"

The four friends began to run to the column. It was always odd, Harry thought as he ran, because you felt without fail that you would run into something solid, but never did.

He was just completing this thought, when his cart hit the column – and stopped.

Harry, Ron, Phineas, and Ferb were thrown backwards, their luggage spilling all over Platforms Nine and Ten. Cages scattered. Suitcases flew. Hedwig gave a sharp squeal as her cage bounced around.

"Oi!" the station guard yelled, running over to the calamity. "You there! Just what do ya think you're doing?"

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized, rubbing the spot on his head where the luggage cart handle had hit. "We... we lost control of the cart."

The station guard raised a hairy eyebrow. "All four of you? At the same time?"

Phineas perked up. "Why, yes. In America, it's called the domino theory."

The station guard eyed the children suspiciously, but finally shrugged. "Take better care next time," he instructed sharply, and then walked away.

Harry got to his feet shakily. He pressed his hand against the column.

It was solid as could be.

"It's blocked! Something's blocking the entrance!" he said in a panicky sort of voice.

"Look at the clock!" Ron said, pointing. "The train leaves at nine sharp!"

It was nine sharp.

Harry leaned against the column, trying to push it. "No! We can't be late! We won't be able to get to Hogwarts! School will start without us!"

Ron bit his lip. "Y'know, Harry, there is one thing we _could_ try."

Harry stopped banging his fist against the column and looked up at him. "What?"

"Well, that old Ford Anglia, in the back... here, just come with me."

Ron led the four friends back out to the parking lot, where the blue car still waited patiently.

"So, what's the plan?" Phineas asked curiously.

"Dad enchanted this Anglia," Ron said, sounding both nervous and excited. "It's not just a normal car. It has a special property. Namely," Ron said, opening up the driver's door, "it can fly."

Phineas blinked. "So, wait a second. Your plan is to commandeer your parents' car and fly to Hogwarts?"

Ron thought about it for a second. "Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it."

"Well, it's not a _bad _plan," Phineas said encouragingly, "but why don't we just use this?"

Ferb pulled a small red orb out of his pocket, and set it down on the pavement. He also took out a remote, and pressed a large red button.

The small orb began to unfold, growing a bowling ball catapult, cup holders, and four amazingly ginormous wheels. Harry and Ron stood, agape, as the gigantic vehicle that busted out Harry unfolded, right there, right in front of them.

"Voila!" Phineas said. "Monster truck, anyone?"

"Bu...bu...bu..." Ron stammered, staring up at the monster truck.

"Come off it, Ron," Harry chided, giving Ron a jab in the shoulder. "You're friends with Phineas and Ferb. Things like this shouldn't surprise you anymore."

Ron shrugged. "Point taken. But, I mean, my car is still perfectly fine, you know, for using..."

"Yeah, but what if we total it? Your parents will be furious. Phineas and Ferb _built_ that truck."

"Come on, guys!" Phineas called from the driver's seat. "Let's catch up with that train! Here, I'll get your stuff. Wingardium Leviosa!"

With a wave of his Muggle wand, Phineas made Hedwig's and Scabber's cages, along with everybody's luggage, into the back of the truck.

"Cool. Let's go!"

Harry and Ron climbed up the ladder, and took their place in their seats.

Phineas looked back from the driver's seat (which, actually, just had a giant remote controller taped to the wall). "Everybody ready? Let's get back to Hogwarts!"

The monster truck revved up, and black smoke shot out from the exhaust pipes. Harry clutched the side of his seat, as the truck lunged forward and fell, screeching, onto the main road.

"Phineas," Harry asked, "why's there a remote control instead of a steering wheel?"

Phineas rolled his eyes. "Because we're all too young to drive. Duh!"

Using the remote, Phineas steered the monster truck onto the British highway I42 and merged into traffic. They sped past towns and farms, past lakes and rivers. Harry enjoyed looking out the window at the rural British countryside.

Ron was still slightly upset about not using his Ford Anglia. He slouched back in his seat and crossed his arms. "It was a perfectly good idea," he mumbled, staring at the back of Phineas's seat. "A perfectly good idea..."

Hours passed. The DVD drive that Phineas had taken the liberty to install had played through _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,_ _Hetalia: Paint It White_, and _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_. Harry was getting kind of bored.

"All right, guys!" Phineas called behind him, startling Perry off of the armrest he'd been sitting on. "Now, we're approaching Hogsmeade. The moat might cause something of a problem, but since we've merged our monster truck with our All-Terrain Vehicle, we can just fly across. However, there's also the problem that technology doesn't work at Hogwarts. About halfway across the moat, the monster truck will stop working, so Ferb and I have made the necessary calculations about velocity, air resistance to get us safely across to the other shore."

Harry looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Wait. So, basically, we're flying across half of the moat, and then we're in free fall for the rest of the way?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Isn't that just a little... I don't know, _unsafe_?"

Ferb blinked. "As the spotted owl Hortense states in _The Capture_, anything worth doing has risks."

"Precisely," Phineas agreed. "Now, hold tight! We're approaching the moat right now!"

Harry stuck his head out of the window. The ATV part of the monster truck must have been kicking in, because they were gliding smoothly over a rough meadow. He could see the town of Hogsmeade to his right, and the shore of Hogwarts Lake was dead ahead.

"Activating rocket boosters and wings!" Phineas shouted, and pressed a purple button on his control panel.

Instantly, two wings slid out from the top of the monster truck. Rocket propellers folded up on the back. Phineas made the truck go faster and faster, until the meadow was a greenish-blackish blur in the moonlight.

"Let's do this thing!" Phineas shouted, pulling a lever on the wall.

Just as the beach sand touched the tires, the monster truck lifted into the air and shot upwards.

"Now, we've only got one shot, but the Hogwarts grounds are a pretty clear landing space," Phineas told his friends. "We're gaining altitude to make sure we make it across in our free fall... and... there!"

The monster truck, which had been climbing the night sky steeply, slowed down, was suspended midair for an instant, and then began a nosedive.

"Everything's looking great," Phineas said happily, scanning the rapidly approaching Hogwarts grounds. "Wind direction and strength accounted for... Coriolis Effect compensated for...air resistance not a problem..."

"WHAT ABOUT THAT TREE?" Ron shrieked, pointing out the windshield.

Phineas followed Ron's finger with his eyes.

"Whoa. Where'd that tree come from? Oh, well, it seems that our landing will be a little rougher than I initially assumed."

"Change direction!" Harry shouted.

"I told you guys, the monster truck won't work once we're halfway across."

"WE'RE DOOMED!" Ron continued to moan.

"Not necessarily," Phineas said, hopping out of the driver's seat. He climbed over the back seats to where their luggage was being kept. "If we can lose some ballast, we could make it over that big, potentially dangerous tree. Here, I guess I can lose this extra engine..."

There was a large _splash_ as the engine was dumped into the Hogwarts Lake.

"And this anvil..."

Another splash.

"And I don't think that we need this laser gun that just happens to work underwater and couldn't possibly be a way for Harry to cut the ropes of the merpeoples' captives in his fourth year..."

"What?" Harry asked, hearing his name.

"Oh, nothing."

A third and final _splash_.

The loss of the heavy objects seemed to work. Harry, Ron, and Phineas all cheered as the monster truck managed to soar over the Whomping Willow, and landed instead on a nice, fluffy, less dangerous willow tree.

"We did it!" Ron celebrated, doing a fist pump. "We missed the Whomping Willow!"

Harry leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily, but relieved. "That was _far _too close for comfort. But at least we missed the tree."

"I know!" Ron agreed. "Imagine what would have happened. The car would have gotten smashed to bits!"

Suddenly, the willow tree they _had _hit began to stir.

Everyone froze.

The willow jerked abruptly, shaking the monster truck off of it. Then, it bent backwards, and pounded the monster truck with all the force it could muster.

All of the force it could muster was a rather puny tap.

"Well!" Phineas exclaimed. "We seemed to have landed on the second fiercest tree on all the Hogwarts grounds – The Wimpy Willow!"

The Wimpy Willow bent backwards again and hit the monster truck. This time, it managed to inflict a tiny scratch in the truck's paint.

"_Pff_," Phineas scoffed. "Well, it appears that there's a valid reason that it's called the Wimpy Willow. Let's get our stuff unpacked!"

Harry, Ron, Phineas, and Ferb climbed out of the monster truck. Using their wands, they levitated their luggage down from the back of the truck, and began the climb up the hill to the castle.

Phineas sighed. "Ah, back to good ol' Hogwarts! A wonderful establishment that's perfectly safe for young children, and with absolutely no history that might threaten its entire existence!"

Ferb blinked. "I couldn't have said it better myself."


	10. Singing Hats and New Gryffindors

A/N: Hey, guys! This is me with a little heads-up. I've added a new, awesome 'Epilogue' onto _Hogwarts? How Serendipitous!_ Go and check it out! If you haven't already, it's the theme song for Carrie the Cephalopod. This brings me to some new exciting news. I'm going to be doing an animal agent song for each little 'book' I'm writing. Your job – guess which animal it will be! Who do you think the song will be about for _this _book? People who guess correctly will win the fabulous prize of ... the right to say "I guessed the animal!" So give it a shot! It's not super-obvious, but a few people will probably get it...

I'd also like to apologize for the delay in posting the new chapters. I've been extremely busy with schools and finals. Being a Ravenclaw, I tend to put my studies before my leisure time, which, unfortunately, means that Fanfiction writing and posting isn't my top priority. Once again, sorry! I am also embarking on a special mission this summer. I plan to arrange _A Very Potter Musical _for my orchestra to play next year! This might slow down posts as well, so I apologize in advance. I really appreciate your patience, guys!

A/N: ... or Hagrid or Olga or Chicago Joe or Professor Binns or Draco Malfoy or Ducky Momo or...

When Phineas, Ferb, Harry, and Ron walked into the Great Hall, in the epitome of health and happiness, everyone pretty much freaked out.

"Harry! We thought you were dead!" a Gryffindor cried, the first one to see them enter along with the last of the students.

"Well, I'm not," Harry said blatantly, as the Great Hall seemed to explode, and people of all four Houses rushed up to verify.

"Someone said that you drove a truck onto the grounds!" a Hufflepuff girl squealed, amidst a chorus of other voices.

"Did you really get imprisoned by your cousins?"

"Wait, you were _beat_ by your cousins?"

"No!" Harry yelled, trying to move towards the Gryffindor table. "I just rode in a car -"

"You _beat up somebody _and _stole_ their _car_?!"

"SILENCE!"

McGonagall shot sparks into the air, which exploded with a loud _bang_. The students were silenced at once.

"Mister Potter, if you would be so kind as to _take your seat_?"

Harry lowered himself onto the bench.

"And Mister Flynn, _please _put that blueprint away!"

A group of interested Ravenclaws gave disappointed sighs as Phineas folded up his plan for the monster truck that brought him there.

Once all of the students had been seated at their respective tables, and all had quieted down in the Great Hall, McGonagall gave a curt nod. "Much better."

Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet, and walked to the head of the High Table. He gave Harry what could have been interpreted as a sly smile, and then began.

"Welcome, all, to another year at Hogwarts! I trust that you have had a rather enjoyable summer... I certainly hope that you didn't just sit indoors all day, but rather took the initiative to seize the day...

"Say," Dumbledore interrupted himself suddenly. "Did any of you know that we've got a hidden swimming pool here at Hogwarts? Yes, I just found it myself, a few days ago. Quite nice.

"As I was saying, welcome. There are a few announcements that I must share concerning your education this year. We have, as you see, a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart – "

"Yes!" exclaimed Lockhart, standing immediately He gave the students a gracious wave of the hand, and flashed them a smile. "I'm _elated _to be teaching here, children! Simply _elated_!"

"Thank you, Lockhart," Dumbledore said sternly. "Please take your –"

"As your brand-new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher," Lockhart continued, "I'm here to teach you how to defend yourselves. And, as I'm sure that _all _of you have read my glorious books, I'm sure that you're going to learn a lot from me! I've already planned some _extraordinarily _fun quizzes, interpretive dances, plays, -"

"Lockhart!" Dumbledore barked. "Please sit down!"

The ever-bright smile of Lockhart's faded slightly. He waved again, less sure of himself, and sat down.

"Now, to continue with announcements, I would like to say that the Forbidden Corridor on the third floor is now un-forbidden. The three-headed dog, Devil's Snare, and other obstacles have been removed. It is now perfectly safe."

Phineas raised his hand politely.

Dumbledore blinked. He pointed at the Ravenclaw table. "Er... Yes, Phineas?"

"I know that you said the obstacles have been removed," Phineas said, "but what about that trapdoor and the near hundred-foot drop beneath it?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but froze as that fact sunk in.

"Oh," Dumbledore said. "Never mind, students. It's still forbidden. At least, until we can find a magical re-modeler.

"Please keep in mind that it is still strictly against Hogwarts rules to venture into the Forbidden Forest, go on dangerous hunts for killer beasts, or steal from private potion stores. I would also like to add that it is now against rules to build large rest stops for holiday-themed world travelers. Now, let the Sorting begin!"

At his words, the new first-years-to-be filed into the Great Hall from an adjourning room. Ron tried to wave at his little sister, Ginny, but she couldn't look up from her feat.

McGonagall placed an old, ragged hat on the stool for the whole school to see. Ginny stared at the hat nervously, like all the other first years.

Suddenly, the hat moved, and a mouth appeared in the creases and folds. Every year, the Sorting Hat would sing a little song for the school. Everyone in the school stopped chatting and looked at the Sorting Hat, which inhaled deeply, and waited for the opening piano chords to finish. Then, looking around the Great Hall at the interested faces staring at him, the Sorting Hat began. This year, it appeared that the song in question was _The Sorting Hat _by the popular Wizard Rock group Riddle™.

"_One thousand year ago, this story starts – _

_There were four sorcerers, with strong and wise hearts._

_Bold Gryffindor from wild wood, fair Ravenclaw from glen,_

_Sweet Hufflepuff from valley grove, shrewd Slytherin from fen._

_They had a dream to teach all that they knew_

_Witches and wizards came far, and it grew,_

'_Til a castle stood tall, by the edge of a lake,_

_ And a thousand years later, the magic remains. _

_ Old Hogwarts Sorting Hat, sing me a song_

_ Speak in my head, tell me where I belong,_

_ And when things look bad and there's nowhere to run,_

_ Unite all the Houses, and we'll fight as one._

_ Brave Godric Gryffindor favored the strong,_

_ Those who had courage and knew right from wrong._

_ And Rowena Ravenclaw taught only the best,_

_ And kind Helga Hufflepuff would teach all the rest._

_ But Salazar Slytherin had his own plans._

_ He thought the Muggle-borns didn't understand_

_ The subtleties of magic, and so he devised_

_ The Chamber of Secrets, with monster inside._

_ Old Hogwarts Sorting Hat, sing me a song_

_ Speak in my head, tell me where I belong._

_ And when things look bad and there's nowhere to run,_

_ Unite all the Houses, and we'll fight as one._

_ Unite all the Houses, and we'll fight as one._"

The school clapped politely for the hat, which bowed as best as an old pointed hat could bow.

Harry leaned to Ron. "What's the Chamber of Secrets?"

Ron shrugged. "Just an old myth. It's probably nothing that we'll ever have to worry about in our lifetimes."

"Why did the Sorting Hat use someone else's song for this year? Usually it composes its own."

"There's a rumor going around that he didn't have time. Fred and George told me that the hat just got back from some sort of honeymoon with the Scarf of… er… something or other. I … uh… don't remember."

But Harry noticed that Ron looked down at his feet as he said this, and his cheeks went very red.

They had a while to wait, sine Ginny was a Weasley. It came as no surprise when the Sorting Hat proclaimed her to be a Gryffindor. As Ginny approached the table, Ron gestured for her to sit down, but Ginny saw Harry Potter and ran to the other end of the table, hiding her face in her hands.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said. "My sister must really like you."

Dumbledore climbed the poteum. "Well, that concludes the Sorting. I have nothing further to say, so – tuck in!"

At once a steaming array of dishes appeared on the tables. Harry saw a tray delicious-looking treacle tarts right in front of him. He reached out a hand gratefully, as the usual babble of talk began to break out.

It wasn't long before his friend Hermione saw where he was sitting. She stormed over to them in a huff, bushy hair bouncing with each step.

"You two!" she cried, as she sat down next to Ron. "I can't _believe _it! Flying a monster truck onto the grounds, crashing into the Wimpy Willow... Quite frankly, I'm surprised you weren't expelled."

Ron reached for a bag of Red Vines. "It wasn't our fault! The gateway wouldn't let us through at Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

"Really? Why?"

"No idea," Harry laughed, finishing a treacle tart. "But we didn't get expelled because we didn't break any school rules."

Hermione huffed. "Right. All you did was break a few dozen branches off the Wimpy Willow."

"Who _cares_?" Ron asked. "I mean, most people didn't even know it _existed_ until we crashed into it..."

"Well, I hear that Professor Sprout is having a fit over it. She's already run out to bandage the tree."

"Guud furr er," Ron shoved out through a mouthful of Red Vines.

Hermione rested her head on her elbow and sighed, deep in thought.

"But that's really odd – the gateway not letting you through and all. Do you think that it was just the gate, or something else?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. It's been a weird start of the year for me. I mean, first this psychotic elf named Dobby shows up in my bedroom and freaks out whenever I don't act mean to him, then Phineas and Ferb spring me out of my room when it becomes a child detainment center, and then the gateway shuts on us."

The Golden Trio spent the rest of the Feast talking about Harry's encounter with Dobby and the odd half-clues that the elf had given him. After Dumbledore came back to the podium and forced them to sing a song, as he had done last year, he dismissed them all.

Phineas and Ferb waited behind the other Ravenclaws so that the three Gryffindors could catch up to them.

"Some dinner, huh?" Phineas asked happily. "Everyone's really excited about our unusual arrival. Five people asked me for my autograph."

"_Hey, Harry! Harry_!"

A short boy, probably a first-year, dashed up to the group with a camera in hand.

"Harry Potter!" the boy gasped, fumbling with his camera. "Hi! M'name's Colin Creevy... Could I get a picture?"

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly. "Er... _sure_?"

"Brilliant!" Collin said, lifting his camera up to his eye. "Say _cheese_!"

Collin eagerly snapped the picture, and a few dozen others, including a very awkward close-up of Harry's scar.

"When it's developed, d'you suppose that you could _sign _it?" Collin asked him, his eyes shining in anticipation. "My friends'll _flip_! Imagine, me meeting Harry Potter!"

"Well, okay, I'll sign it..."

"Great!" Collin shouted, beaming from ear to ear. He walked away, snapping pictures every three steps, of every gargoyle and every tile on the floor.

"What was that dude's name?" Phineas asked, incredulously watching Collin walk/take pictures away. "Collin Creepy?"

"Collin _Creevy_."

"Meh. Close enough. He _is _creepy. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he started stalking you, Harry."

Harry tried to drive this disturbing yet quite plausible thought from his mind. "Okay, guys. Enough excitement for today. We'd best be heading up to our commons rooms."

Phineas shrugged. "Okay. Well, good night, guys! See ya tomorrow. Wonder what classes we'll have together?"

Harry smiled. "Not enough."


	11. A Brief Interlude with Ducky Momo

A/N: ... or Millicent Bullstrode or Pansy Parkington or Doctor Diminutive or Sergei the Snail or Lee Jordan or Dean Thomas or Helga Hufflepuff or...

"But Stacy!" Candace shouted into her cell phone, pacing back and forth in her room. "Stacy, listen to me – _Phineas doesn't belong there_. He can't even use magic, for cryin' out loud!"

"_Stop panicking_, _Candace_," Stacy said with infinite patience, looking over a rack of clothes at the mall. _"Just because you can't watch them all day doesn't mean that they're unsafe. I'm sure that Phineas is having a great time_."

"But I _just know _he's going to build some kind of wacky... weird... _thing_! And it's gonna get him in trouble!"

"_Even if he _does _get in trouble, Phineas will find a way out of it_," Stacy said, looking at a turquoise shirt.

"_Remember when the Ministry people came here this summer because Phineas was telling everybody about magic? Phineas just offered him some of his lemonade, and the Ministry worker let him off with a warning."_

"Stacy, come on, you didn't call me to give me a therapy lesson!"

"_Uh, Candace, _you _called _me_."_

"Don't try to lead me off topic, Stacy! Phineas is going to get in trouble. And not just in regular trouble, but in weird, freaky wizard trouble!"

"_Uh-huh. Listen, Candace, I've got to check out now. Just relax. Phineas and Ferb are fine. Okay? Bye."_

Candace snapped her cell phone shut. She laid down on her bed, and sighed.

"Mister Miggins!" she said, grabbing for her deteriorating teddy bear and holding him tightly. She began to sob.

"Mister Miggins, why is my life so _awful_?"

After Candace had had her nervous breakdown with Mister Miggins, she got out of her bed to put the bear back on her shelves. As she was replacing the teddy bear, Candace happened to glance at another one of her prized possessions – a small, commemorative Ducky Momo plate that had been misprinted with the words _I Hate People!_ It was a very rare plate, and it caught her eye at that moment.

"Ducky Momo," she sighed, taking the plate off of her shelves. "What am I going to do? I mean, Phineas and Ferb shouldn't be at wizard school! They're going to get skewered by a unicorn, or... or... or something!"

Strangely enough, Candace could almost imagine Ducky Momo talking back to her.

_Follow your brothers_, Ducky Momo said. _Go to Hogwarts_.

"I wanna, Ducky Momo, but I have a life! I mean, there's Jeremy... school... Jeremy... Jeremy..."

_Go to Hogwarts_, Ducky Momo urged. _Do you not want to protect them from harm_?

"Why, Ducky Momo!" Candace laughed. "When did you start talking like that? It sounds cool. Anyways, I can't. Sorry, Ducky Momo."

_Go._

Candace felt very strange. She didn't really want to go, and Ducky Momo wasn't giving very good reasons. And yet, Ducky Momo had _told _her to. She almost felt like she didn't have a choice. Ducky Momo had told her to.

"You know what, Ducky Momo? I think I'm goin' to Hogwarts!" Candace declared suddenly, feeling very pleased with herself.

_Good_, Ducky Momo said quietly, and was silent.

**... ... ...**

_Isabella felt the breeze in her hair, and the sunset cast orange light on the beach in front of her. She rode a beautiful white pony with a pink mane. _

_ Next to her rode Phineas, on his own white and pink pony. They held hands, watching the sun sink lower into the ocean. _

_ "Oh, Phineas!" Isabella sighed. "How romantic!" _

_ Phineas opened his mouth, leaning closer to whisper something in her ear... _

WhrrrrrRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRR!

"AH!" Isabella yelped, falling out of her tree branch and out of her wonderful daydream.

Bruised and annoyed, Isabella dusted off her pink dress. "Can't I even have a nice daydream without someone bothering me? Seriously, who's working with power tools on a nice afternoon like - ?"

It was just then that Isabella saw Candace creep out from the garage, a power tool in her hand and an exceptionally bizarre expression on her face.

Isabella watched with considerable astonishment as Candace went back inside the house. Candace and power tools simply did _not _go together. It was like seeing Phineas build a simple wooden birdhouse for the day's activity.

Something was _seriously _wrong here.

Isabella wasted no time, and sprinted off to Baljeet's backyard.

"Baljeet! I just saw Candace drag a crowbar and power drill into her house!" she yelled, turning the corner to the yard.

Baljeet had spread out all his books and papers on the grass, and was currently working on a complicated calculus problem.

"What?" he asked irritably. "I'm doing homework!"

The pink-loving Fireside girl blinked. "But... yesterday was the first day of school. How do you have this much homework?"

"Well, I'm doing all my homework and studying today, so that I can take all my quizzes and tests tomorrow. Then, I can ask for the next subjects for studying and thereby cover so much more during this school year!" he told her joyfully.

"Now," he asked casually, turning back to his book, "I believe that you said something about Candace?"

"Well, uh, I kinda just saw her take a crowbar and a power drill inside her house."

This made Baljeet look up from his math. "A crowbar? And a power drill? Considering Candace's personality, this particular incident seems highly improbable. Did you happen to see anything else?"

"No. Do you wanna find Buford and check it out?"

"No need to," Buford said, walking into the backyard. "I was just comin' over for our usual two o'clock wedgie. By the way, don't think that just 'cuz we're going to see Candace that you're getting out of that wedgie, nerd."

Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet went stealthily back to Phineas's house. When they reached the door, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher opened the door.

"Hey, kids! Can I help you?"

"Yeah, um... Can we see Candace?" Isabella asked politely.

Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher seemed surprised.

"Candace? Are you sure?"

"Yep."

Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher shrugged, and let the kids in. "Well, she's having a really severe wild parsnip allergy right now. I haven't gotten her to talk to me. She's really embarrassed."

"But I just saw – Never mind, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher. Thank you!"

As Phineas's mom walked away, Buford turned to Isabella.

"Why didn't you tell 'er?"

Isabella shook her head. "Candace has obviously set this up. She's probably told her mom that she has a severe allergy and locked her room."

"Then... where _is_ Candace?" Baljeet asked, confused.

"_Come on! Stupid... wall... fall... down!_" a muffled voice came from under their feet.

Baljeet looked down at the floor.

"Oh. Never mind."

"The Panic Room!" Isabella exclaimed, immediately dashing towards the basement door. "Let's go!"

The Panic Room, as everyone acquainted with Candace knew (Except for Jeremy. Why do you think he's still her boyfriend?), was located in a far, dusty corner of the basement, down a ladder inside of a wooden crate, and finally ending in a small metal room with a lovely little hand-woven sign that said _The Panic Room_. The Panic Room's purpose was just to give Candace a place to freak out away from the rest of the family. The Panic Room had been there as long as the Flynn-Fletcher Family had known – it had come with the house.

Isabella opened the smallish wooden crate and began to climb down the ladder. It was dark and very cold in the Panic Room. Usually, it was very quiet, too, with only the occasional whimper from Candace.

But now the sound of drills and heavy metal tools reverberated through the air.

"_What the heck is she _doing_?" _Isabella mouthed at Baljeet, just a few steps above her.

When the three friends had reached the bottom, they beheld a very odd sight. Candace was trying to pry one wall of her Panic Room off with a jackhammer and a crowbar.

"Come _on_!" she shouted, straining with the crowbar. "How did this thing fall over when I hit it with a _plant _last time? _Open up!_"

Isabella coughed politely. "Uh, Candace...?"

Candace turned around abruptly, crowbar still in hand.

"You! Small children! Just what are you doing here?" she barked, storming towards them.

Baljeet motioned at the Panic Room wall. "Why were you attempting to pull that wall down?"

"What, you mean the fourth wall?"

"No, that metal one. The fourth wall in this story has already crumbled to dust, obviously."

Candace's eyes went wide with shock. "I'm not doing anything! Not with the Panic Room wall! You children are just... just imagining things!"

Buford grunted. "Does this have anythin' to do with that tunnel to Warthogs that Phineas wouldn't tell us about?"

"No!" Candace yelled, backing up against the wall she had been trying to knock down. She took a deep breath.

"No. Why on Earth would you think that stupid tunnel's down here?"

To show how utterly calm and telling-the-truth she was, Candace leaned casually against the metal wall.

It fell over with a muffled _THUMPFFF. _

"That's gnarly!" Buford exclaimed, running into the tunnel. "Hey, check out all these wild parsnips!"

Isabella blinked. "Wow. So _this _is the entrance to the ultra-secret tunnel that Phineas mentioned? Down in the Panic Room?"

Baljeet crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. He scanned the tunnel skeptically.

"Does this not seem just a bit too... well, convenient?"

"Well, it _is _a bit far-fetched," Isabella said. "I mean, what are the odds?"

"Approximately two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine to one against."

"Whoa, whoa whoa!"

Candace walked into the tunnel, stepping in front of Buford, looking outraged.

"No, guys, get _out _of here!" she said, waving Buford and Baljeet in the direction of the ladder. "Out of the incredibly convenient plot hole!"

"Hey, that's a good name for it," Isabella said thoughtfully. "The Incredibly Convenient Plot Hole... It has a nice ring!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so does your doorbell. Go_ home_, children!"

Baljeet pointed into the dark depths of the tunnel. "Just what were _you _attempting to do with the tunnel? You came in here to break it down, correct?"

"I need to go to Hogwarts."

Baljeet scoffed. "And just _why_?"

Candace's eyes lost their focus momentarily. "Because Ducky Momo told me to... I mean, uh, because I need to watch and protect Phineas and Ferb!" she shouted, her eyes returning to normal. "Now, OUT, children!"

Buford and Baljeet hurried up the ladder. Isabella, however, stayed for just a few seconds longer. She watched Candace set off through the tunnel until the darkness blurred the edges of her body, and finally swallowed her entirely.

Isabella shook her head and laughed. "Yeah. Like we're gonna stay away now that we know where the Incredibly Convenient Plot Hole is. Ah, Phineas... I'll get to see you at your special magic school..."

She sighed dreamily. She didn't even need to climb the ladder back up, because Phineas appeared as a flying horse and just then and lifted her up, already flying back to their private beach.


	12. Lockhart Gets an Idea

A/N: Hello, everybody! Just want to mention a few things I heard about on the reviews that I can't PM about –

First off, I really like reviews with helpful criticism or pointing out mistakes. I try to correct them if they're right, so if you find a review that points out a mistake that's not there… that's why.

I guess that I'd just like to say that technology _doesn't _work at Hogwarts, but Phineas and Ferb found a way to bypass that in their first year. On the train to Hogwarts they melted a chocolate frog and used it to 'temper' the technology with magic. When he makes other technological things, please assume that he uses some kind of similar technique, because my prime typing time is about 11 at night and I might forget.

Phineas made fun of Collin because Collin is creepy. _Really _creepy. At least, in my Fanfiction. I dunno, maybe I'm painting him so badly because I might want to do that thing that happened at the end of AVSY, but I haven't decided yet. Leave me a review with your opinions. I always like to do things the readers say.

And by the way, QAS? Remember that request you made about Harry's friends? I have an idea and I plan to use it very soon.

Thanks again! Enjoy!

... or Agent T or Fawkes the Phoenix or Seamus Finnegan or Rita Skeeter or Madame Maxime or Rodney or...

The arrival of Harry, Ron, Phineas, and Ferb had created a general air of astonishment and excitement in the castle. When Harry went downstairs to breakfast the first morning of classes, almost every person he passed in the hallways wanted to high-five him or clap him on the back.

Hermione seemed to accept the fact that no school rules had been broken, and only mildly gave him the cold shoulder at breakfast. He started chatting when her and Ron, waiting for the morning post to arrive.

"Hey, morning, Harry!" Phineas called, walking over from the Great Hall's entrance. "Enjoying your morning repast?"

Harry nodded. He was watching the sky above the Great Hall. The owl post was due to come soon. It wasn't as if he expected anything from the Dursleys, but he enjoyed watching the great flock swoop in and deliver packages.

"Great, here's the post!" Neville Longbottom said, as owls began to fly in. "I'm pretty sure that Gran is sending some things that I forgot." As he said it, an extremely large parcel dropped onto his plate, with a letter from his Grandmother.

"Look out!" Hermione suddenly shrieked, ducking under the table. Harry didn't even have time to ask '_What?' _before a shabby grey owl smacked into his face with the force of a punch.

Ron gasped. "Errol! No!"

"It's okay," Harry muttered, taking off his yet again broken glasses. "I've had worse..."

"No, not that."

Ferb reached across the table and duck-taped Harry's glasses again. When Harry put them on, he saw Ron staring, agape, at a small red envelope that Errol had brought him.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's a Howler!" Ron shouted in surprise. "No, no way! What did we _do_? We didn't even fly the ruddy CAR! What's she going to yell at us for?"

"Just get it over with," Neville advised, watching as the envelope began to shake and smoke like some sort of bomb.

Ron tore the envelope open and immediately ducked under the Gryffindor table. Everyone around them plugged their ears, except for Phineas, Ferb, and Harry.

"_RONALD WEASLEY!" _

Everything in the Great Hall froze. Forks and knives stopped clanking. Chairs stopped shuffling. There was only the subtle turning of heads as each student and staff member turned to watch.

"_RONALD WEASLEY! DO HAVE ANY IDEA THE PANIC YOU CAUSED? YOUNG MAN, YOU HAD BETTER HOPE THAT WHEN YOU COME HOME NEXT SUMMER WE DON'T PUT BARS ON __YOUR __WINDOW!"_

Ron whimpered from under the table.

Harry looked round, utterly confused. "But we didn't take the car! What's Mrs. Weasley angry about?"

_"REMEMBER THAT FLYING CAR, RONALD? REMEMBER IT? WELL, THANK YOU __VERY MUCH__ FOR OPENING THE CAR DOOR AND THEN JUST __LEAVING IT OPEN__! WHEN YOUR FATHER AND I GOT BACK FROM THE EXPRESS THE CAR WAS __GONE__! IT WOULD BE BAD ENOUGH IF IT WAS STOLEN BY A WIZARD, BUT IT WAS, AFTER ALL… __A MUGGLE TRAIN STATION_!"

That last sentence was so ear-splittingly loud that Harry clutched at the sides of his heads, trying to block out the noise.

_"WHAT IF, RONALD WEASLEY, A MUGGLE STOLE THAT CAR? WHAT IF THEY FOUND OUT IT __FLEW__ AND HAD A LITTLE JOYRIDE OVER LONDON? __**THE ENTIRE WIZARDING WORLD COULD BE IN JEOPARDY!**__AND IT'S __**ALL! YOUR! FAULT**__!__ IMAGINE WHAT THEY'LL DO WHEN THE MINISTRY FINDS OUT - THE CAR THAT LET MUGGLES KNOW WE EXIST BELONGS TO YOUR FATHER!"_

"_OH, GOOD GOING, MOLLY!_" Arthur Weasley's voice suddenly interrupted. Harry stared at the Howler in confusion, as did the rest of the Great Hall.

_"NOW ALL OF __**HOGWARTS**__ KNOWS THAT IT'S MY RUDDY CAR!"_

_ "OH, DEAR… ERROL! ERROL! BRING THAT BACK, ERROL! NO! ERROL! COME BACK!_"

Ron's parents' voices, continually shouting at Errol to come back, eventually faded away.

It appeared that Errol did not come back.

The Howler, its message finished, tore itself up into a billion little pieces, which then started on fire. When Ron emerged from the table, his face was as red as the envelope in which the Howler had come.

"Oh, no," Ron muttered, as the usual chatter in the Great Hall slowly started up again. "I'm screwed. What if a Muggle finds out how to work the flying car? We're done for! It would have been better if we _had _crashed that bloody thing..."

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked. "I can't believe it! Do you how many Wizard Stature of Secrecy guidelines that you're in peril of breaking? You need to track down that car as soon as possible."

"How?" Ron asked, more desperate than angry. "Unless someone invents something in, like, the next 24 hours that could locate that car, we're pretty much screwed!"

Phineas smiled. He turned to Ferb.

"Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today!"

"But _not _until we've finished our classes!" Hermione reproached, staring at Phineas and Ferb. "Schoolwork comes first, _then _we'll save the Wizarding Stature of Secrecy."

After breakfast, the Golden Trio made their way across the grounds to the Herbology room. To their surprise, Pomona Sprout was not tending to plants, but rather trying to ignore their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Ah, hullo!" Lockhart greeted, as soon as he saw the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors approaching for morning Herbology.

"Just having a word with Professor Sprout here, telling her about care for Wimpy Willows. Not that I," he laughed, gesturing at himself grandly, "know more about Wimpy Willows than your beloved teacher. I've just seen so many of them on my tours around the world!"

"Greenhouse three today," Sprout said to the students, giving Lockhart a _you-idiot-you-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-abo ut _sort of look. "Grab a pair of earmuffs by the door on your way in."

Harry was about to enter the greenhouse, when suddenly Gilderoy Lockhart stepped in front of him, his ever-bright smile upon his face.

"Harry, lad! Would you mind just having a word before class?"

"He'll be late," Professor Sprout said, trying to get Harry out of it.

"No worries! Thanks very much, Pomona!" With that, Lockhart spun Harry away from the door and walked him a few feet away.

"Harry," Lockhart said, shaking his head slowly. "Harry, Harry, Harry. Heard all about your fiasco with the flying car and the monster truck. I understand exactly why you did it, lad."

"You do?" Harry asked blankly, wondering if Lockhart was responsible for the gateway sealing itself. Maybe Lockhart knew who _was _responsible!

"Of course! It was all for the attention, lad! I know, I know, I gave you a taste of it in the bookshop, and naturally you wanted more."

Harry groaned softly.

"No, my boy, I understand completely. Now, on that point, since you're becoming more conscious of your public image, I would advise you to keep better tabs on your... well, _company. _Doesn't rub off well on the public if they hear you're hanging around _Mugg_ – "

"Hey, Harry! Ferb and I hung back to make something!"

Phineas and Ferb ran across the courtyard, carrying a small remote in their hands.

"Oh, hey, Professor Lockhart!"

Lockhart's smile faded a little. "Er... hello, Mister Flynn! I was just talking to Harry."

"About my public image," Harry completed coldly.

"But Harry, really," Lockhart said quickly, starting to walk away. "I've just written a _book _all about my public image. If you need any kind of advice, just ask me! I doubt that any of your friends can say that about themselves!"

"Well, actually," Phineas interrupted happily, "Ferb and I _have _written a book. In fact, we wrote a whole series."

Lockhart stopped trying to inch away. He cocked his head and looked at Phineas for a long while.

"Have you?"

"Sure! Last summer, Ferb and I wrote a twenty-eight volume science fiction swashbuckling historical romance tell-all pop spoiler mystery satire buddy cop adventure tragedy how-to action novel!"

As Phineas described his book series to Lockhart, Ferb reached down and picked up the towering stack of volumes in question. He held them up from Lockhart to see.

"Where did you pull these from?" Lockhart asked, blinking at Ferb.

Ferb blinked back.

Lockhart shrugged. "Whatever." He began to page through the first volume in the series.

Looking longingly at the greenhouse, Harry groaned again. He was going to be very, very late today. He tried to see through the windows at what his friends were doing.

"Oh my Wizard God!"

Lockhart's sudden exclamation started Harry. He turned round, only to see Lockhart's smile returning in its full glory.

"My Wizard God!" Lockhart repeated, laughing a little. "This is... this is BRILLIANT! Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher, I must say, you've got quite a knack at writing!"

Phineas smiled. "Yes. Yes, we do."

"Have you gotten these published yet?"

"No, not yet. We were about to, but this thing - I think it was called the _Hot-Air Balloon Inator _or something weird like that - fell out of the sky and wrecked the publisher's car. After that, he got all mad and left us."

Lockhart smiled, just a little evilly. "Excellent..."

"What?"

"Nothing!" Lockhart said quickly, the evil smile vanishing instantly. "Nothing at all! You know, why don't the two of you come to my office later tonight? We'll start talking about the... er... _publication _of these books. Ta-ta, boys!"

With a grand wave, Lockhart was off.

"Hmm. That was a little weird," Phineas commented. "But we've gotta get to History of Magic now. But before we go, why don't you take this remote?"

"What does it do?" Harry asked, as he took the small device from Phineas.

"It acts as a specialized magnet. Ferb and I figured that a few of the atoms from the flying car will have stuck to Ron's hand, so he just needs to rub _this _little thing, and turn it on. The flying car will be magnetically summoned almost immediately!"

"Wow," Harry said, staring down at the remote with wide eyes. "And you guys just made this fifteen minutes ago?"

"Yes. Yes, we did. Anyways, bye, Harry. I think we've got Defense Against the Dark Arts together. See ya then!"

As Phineas and Ferb went back inside the castle, Harry entered the greenhouse and sat down next to Hermione and Ron.

"Finally!" Professor Sprout exclaimed as he took his seat at last. "It was an awfully long word he had, eh, Potter? But now that we're all assembled, let me begin with a question."

Professor Sprout pulled on a thick, green, pair of gloves, and slowly walked to a tray full of potted plants. Purple leaves poked out of the soil, and unless Harry was mistaken, a few of the leaves were... _moving._

"Who here knows what a Mandrake is and what it does?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand sprang into the air.

"The mandrake is a powerful restorative plant, and is also known as _Mandragora_," Hermione recited. "It was first discovered in 1603 by Lazarus the Unstable, who is also credited for the invention of Ovulmency, which is the art of predicting the future based on how eggs fall in a bowl. Wizards refused to believe that the Mandrake could kill by its cry, but Lazarus eventually brought back a cellular sample in –"

"Very nice! Five points to Gryffindor!" Sprout said quickly, thankful for having a reason to cut Hermione off. "Can anyone explain what a restorative is?"

Hermione raised her hand again.

"Anybody _besides _Miss Granger?"

Tentatively, Harry put his hand in the air.

"Yes, Mister Potter!"

"Well, I'm just guessing, but... does it _restore _things?"

"Excellent!" Sprout said. "Take another five points for Gryffindor. To expound upon Potter's point, the Mandrake is a vital ingredient in potions and spells that return people, places, and objects to their original state. For example, if someone were to become petrified by a mysterious force during the school year, mandrake juice would be absolutely vital to their revival."

Professor Sprout continued to talk, but just then, Hermione noticed that Harry was holding something.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at it under the table while Sprout talked.

Harry looked down at the remote. "Oh, this? Phineas just gave it to me. He said that it'll be able to summon the flying car when we turn it on."

"How?"

"He said something about it being a magnet. Ron needs to rub his hand here, and then turn it on. It'll bring the car to wherever the remote is."

Hermione frowned. "But that's impossible. You can't _specialize_ a magnet. And there's _no way _that it could be that strong! It won't work!"

"Wow!"

Ron had noticed the remote and listened to Harry explain how it works. He grabbed the remote and rubbed his hand against it.

"Does it really work that simply? Wicked! How do you turn it on?"

"With the 'ON' button," Harry explained. "Pretty sure it's this one."

"How does an 'ON button work?" Ron asked, accidentally pressing the ON button.

The remote began to buzz and beep, and shook violently in Ron's hand.

" – we're quite proud to, this year, host a garden full of mature mandrakes and... Potter! Weasley! Just what in Merlin's name is going on over there?"

Sprout stopped with her hand around the stem of a mandrake. She stared at the table where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated.

Hermione pointed at the remote. "Well, Phineas and Ferb just made this for us, so that we can find the flying car. Ron just turned it on, and _supposedly _a large blue Ford Anglia is going to be drawn to the magnet, and probably crash into the greenhouse."

Sprout frowned. "And just how would a large blue Ford Anglia crash into...?"

Just then, Sprout happened to glance out the window.

"EVERYONE OUT OF HERE!" she screamed, throwing open the door and rushing all the students out of the greenhouse. "HURRY, HURRY!"

"Blimey!" Seamus Finnigan yelled, pointing up at the sky. "A car's goin' right for the greenhouse!"

The last student had barely stepped out of the building when Ron's flying car appeared in the sky above Hogwarts. Nobody was in it, but that didn't change the fact that a very large automobile was positively shooting towards them.

There was a flash of blue – a _whishing _sound as it flew overhead – a sound like a bomb falling –

_**CRASH!**_

A great cloud of smoke and ash mushroomed into the air, and the ground shook like an earthquake was going on. Harry fell to the ground and felt everything rumbling and shaking. He coughed, trying to cover his mouth with his hands to block out the soot.

After the crash, everything was quiet for a few moments.

Then –

"SWEET MERLIN, LOOK AT MY GREENHOUSE!"

Harry dared to open his eyes. Sprout was covered in ash, and standing bewilderedly among the charred remains of greenhouse three.

"All the mandrakes! Every single one! It's going to take a _year _to grow a new batch to maturity!"

Next to him, Harry felt Ron stand up.

"Right, well, at least we got rid of the car."

Harry gaped at the smoking blue rubble strewn amongst blackened plants and glass.

"No kidding," he said finally.

Hermione sidestepped a piece of glass sticking out of the ground and walked to Ron.

The three of them observed the smoldering the wreckage for a few minutes.

After a few moments, Harry turned to Ron.

"You know, Ron, for future reference... when you press ON buttons, things turn ... on."

Ron grunted. "Oh."

The rest of Herbology was rather interesting. Professor Sprout, after stammering for a few more minutes about all the mandrakes that were destroyed, plopped down in a dead faint. A few Hufflepuffs went to get Madame Pomfrey, a few went to get Dumbledore, but eventually the mess was cleaned up.

Since Professor Sprout was out for the count, when a fuming Professor McGonagall asked who was responsible for the mandrakes' and greenhouse's utter demolition, nobody raised his hand. Harry felt kind of bad, but he didn't want to get Ron expelled, or Phineas and Ferb for that matter.

Transfiguration was the next class in Harry's schedule. McGonagall probably suspected that Harry and Ron had something to do with the car, since it _was _Ron's family's car, after all, and she spent nearly the entire class period squinting at them. Harry lost count of the times that he denied having crashed the car, but it didn't seem to matter.

"I'm surprised that she didn't turn cat on us and claw us into pieces," Ron said as soon as they had left Transfiguration. "Anyway, what've we got next?"

Harry glanced at his timetable. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Great! So now we have to deal with Lockhart!" Ron moaned. "You know what _he's _going to say. '_Oh, Harry, I know that you blew up the greenhouse and all the mandrakes just for the attention!'_" Just then, Ron happened to glance over at Hermione's schedule.

"Hermione, why'd you outline all of Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione gasped and yanked her schedule out of Ron's sight, her face becoming much more than slightly red.

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, they could hardly believe that it was the same room that Quirrel had stuttered in last year. There were no more impressive skeletons or stuffed monsters. Instead, Lockhart's flawless face grinned at them from every wall, every bookshelf, even on the _ceiling_.

"Blimey," Ron breathed. "He's _everywhere_."

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! Over here!" Phineas called, waving from a table across the room.

Just as the three of them sat down, Lockhart swept into the room in brilliant robes of turquoise and gold, throwing back the curtains to his office.

"Hello! Hello to everybody! I'm so happy to see all of these smiling faces today!

"Oh, and I'm glad to see you students, too!"

Lockhart waited politely for the class to laugh at his joke. Instead, the class sat silently. A cricket chirped in the background.

"Well... ah... Er, yes. Hey, how about a pop quiz?"

The class groaned; Lockhart waved his wand, and a stack of papers that had been waiting on his desk floated into the air, delivering themselves to each student.

"I'll give you chaps ten minutes. Good luck!"

Harry looked down at his quiz. He read the first few questions.

_What clothing brand does Gilderoy Lockhart exclusively buy?_

_How many steps to brushing his teeth did Gilderoy Lockhart describe in _Voyages with Vampires?

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

_What musical instrument can Gilderoy Lockhart play?_

Harry's mouth dropped open. He glanced over at Ron, who wore a similar expression of disbelief.

"This is ridiculous!" Harry whispered to Ron. "What on Earth does this have to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Phineas, what do you think?"

Phineas and Ferb, it appeared, were busy folding their quizzes into rather impressive origami.

"What was that, Harry?" Phineas asked, setting a completed spotted owl (_Strix occidentalis_) on his desk in front of him.

When ten minutes were up, Lockhart waved his wand again, and the quizzes flew back to his desk.

Lockhart began to look at some of the quizzes. He clucked his tongue.

"Tut-tut, everybody! I honestly expected better. I explicitly stated in _Year with A Yeti_ that I buy _only _from the prestigious Armenian Eagle brand. I have forty-two steps to brushing my teeth, my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and start my own line of hair-care potions, and my instrument is _obviously _piano! I can certainly tickle the ivories, if I do say so myself!

"However, _one _of you got a perfect score! How delightful! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione lifted her hand into the air slowly.

"Wonderful job! You've evidently read and perfectly understood all of my books!"

Lockhart waved his wand, and the pop quizzes disappeared in a puff of smoke. He then crept sneakily towards a covered cage in the corner of the room.

"My job," he began as he tiptoed to the cage, "is to teach you about what awaits you in the wide world. I am here to give you the tools you need to protect yourselves from the fiercest creatures and spells imaginable! I have met creatures that can tear your head off in a second! I have seen spells that could cause you to dissolve in a beige-colored puddle! I have experienced things that no normal person could ever go through in their entire lives!"

Lavender Brown started to bawl in her corner seat.

"Prepare yourselves! I am about to introduce you to one of the fiercest creatures in the entire wizarding world. Behold!"

Lockhart pulled the sheet off of the cage dramatically.

"Cornish pixies!"

Once again, silence.

Seamus Finnigan coughed. "Er... uh... That's it?"

"They're _freshly caught _Cornish pixies!"

"Does that make any difference?" Phineas asked.

"Well, then!" Lockhart scoffed. "If you all consider them to be so harmless... Let's see what you think after I let them out!"

With that, Lockhart opened the cage door. The electric blue pixies shot out of the cage, shrieking and squealing. Almost immediately, they began to wreak havoc.

"Hey! That's my poster!" Lockhart yelped, as four pixies began to pry away one of the sickly purple posters on the wall. Then, as one of the pixies dived at him, Lockhart scrambled up the stairs to his office and bolted the door shut.

"AHH! HELP!" Neville Longbottom had been seized by the ears by two pixies, which then lifted him into the air and hung him on a chandelier.

Phineas laughed. "Hey, Ferb, this is almost like that time that those Buford-potato mutants got loose on the streets of Danville!"

"_What_?" Ron asked, ducking as a pixie zipped over his head.

Phineas rubbed his chin. "Hmm. There's a severe lack of mechanical parts in this school, and we used the only ones we could find for the car locator, so I doubt we could build another hot tub vacuum... Any ideas, Ferb?"

Ferb reached into his pocket. He withdrew a ten-foot-long net.

"That'll work! C'mon, Harry!"

It took all five of them to swing the giant net from side to side, and it was tiring work.

"Augh!" Harry said in utter frustration. "Can you believe that Lockhart left us here to deal with these? What a _git_!"

"But what about all the things he's done? He's banished banshees! He's stopped werewolves! He's rushed into burning buildings to save the trapped orphans inside!" Hermione protested over the pixies' racket.

Ron stared at her. "And you're going to believe a _word _that idiot says?"


	13. Voices in the Wall

A/N: ... or Peter the Panda or Peter Pettigrew or Pansy Parkington or Choo-Choo or Minerva McGonagall or Godric Gryffindor or...

"Harry?"

Harry heard his name and immediately woke up. He didn't open his eyes at once, but lay in his bed for a few moments later, hoping that they'd go away.

_It's not morning yet... It's still far off..._

"Harry! C'mon, up and at'em!"

"Whaa?" Harry asked groggily, opening his eyes.

Oliver Wood stood at the side of his bed, fully dressed in Quidditch uniform.

"C'mon, Harry, let's go!" Wood positively shouted once Harry looked at him. "We've got a lot of practice to get in today! Our tactics aren't going to practice themselves, Harry!"

Harry glanced at his bedside clock in confusion. "But... but... it's four-thirty..."

"All part of our new training tactic!" Wood assured him excitedly. "Up, up, up, and let's go to the grounds!"

Thinking to himself that Wood had finally gone completely insane over his obsession with Quidditch, Harry dragged himself out of bed and got ready. He looked longingly at the Great Hall, where warm, delicious breakfast would soon be served, and trudged down the hallway.

As he was just about to walk out the door, he saw a small boy dash out from a different hallway.

"Harry! Wait up!"

Harry spun 'round and felt panic swelling within him.

"Collin Creepy? I mean... Creevey?"

"Hey, Harry," Collin said, watching Harry with a reverent expression. "I was just following you from the commons, and wanted to catch up and take another picture... or two... or forty..."

"You've been _following _me? For how long?"

"Oh, I follow you _everywhere_," Collin said absentmindedly, glancing at his camera and adjusting a few levers and buttons. "I follow you to the Hall... I follow you between all your classes... sometimes I even watch you sleep for a while at night..."

"TOO MUCH INFORMATION!" Harry shouted, lunging towards the Great Hall door.

"No, really, Harry, I was curious about you... You're interesting when you sleep… you talk…"

"DON'T BRING ANYTHING TWILIGHT INTO THIS!" Harry yelled in a high voice, jumping down the stairs in front of the door, and going into a very very very brisk run towards the Quidditch grounds.

Harry arrived, breathless, at the locker rooms. He leaned against a wall and tried to catch his breath.

Wood turned the corner.

"Well, Harry! Good to see you alert and ready for practice!"

A few minutes later, Harry, Oliver, Katie, Fred and George, Alicia, and Angelina had assembled in a meeting room in the lockers. They were all sitting at a table, staring at a complicated chalkboard with Wood's new strategy smudged on it.

"Right!" Wood said, clapping his hands together. The loud noise startled everyone out of their poorly concealed naps.

"We're going to try something revolutionary! Unseen before by human eye! Absolutely original!"

Wood tapped the board with his wand, and all the arrows and lines he had drawn began to squiggle around.

Harry tried to listen. He really tried. But combined with the fact that it was five-o-nine, the strategy was really boring, and that he would be missing breakfast, Harry fell into a sleepy stupor.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but Wood clapped his hands again after a while, and said, "Right! Let's go out there and WIN!"

Stumbling onto his broom, Harry looked over at all the others. They still didn't seem awake, and certainly hadn't heard any of the strategy either.

"Off we go!" Wood shouted cheerily.

The seven of them shot off into the dusty pink sky. The sun was just barely rising, but Wood told them that the lack of light would help them better memorize the strategy.

Harry floated around in the air, waiting for Wood to bring out the balls for the practice. He scanned the bleachers leisurely, but not expecting to see anything. Nobody else would be crazy enough to be up at _this _hour.

Fred Weasley floated up to Harry.

"Hey, Harry, d'you hear that funny clicking noise?"

"No, Fred, the phrase is _that mysterious ticking noise_."

Fred swung his broom in a full circle, honest confusion upon his face.

"No, really - There's some sort of clicking going on. Can't you hear it?"

Harry closed his eyes and listened. Sorting through all the bird chirps and the rusting wind, he came upon a noise quite like Fred had described it. It was a frantic clicking, almost as if... as if...

"AAHHH!"

Collin Creeepy was standing on the highest bleacher, clicking photo after photo of Harry.

Harry screamed again, and turned his broom around so fast that he almost sent Fred falling. He shot away from Collin as fast as his broom would go, yelling all the while.

"Hey, Harry, where are you going?" Wood asked, turning around to watch as his Seeker flew past in a red and gold streak. "I've just let the balls out..."

Something hit Harry in the side, very hard. He was momentarily stunned, and his fingers slowly unfurled from holding the broom. Luckily, the ground was only a few feet away when he fell.

"Harry! You all right?"

The other players drifted down to the ground. Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell got off their brooms and helped Harry back to his feet.

"Okay, Harry?" Wood asked quickly. He frowned at the bleachers.

"Would somebody _please_ get Creevey out of here? He's stalking Harry, but now he's starting to freak _me _out."

Katie Bell suddenly pointed at the stadium entrance. "Look! Somebody's coming! I... I think it's the Slytherin team!"

Sure enough, seven green-and-silver clad players stalked their way through the field, and every player had a smug smile on his face.

"You lot!" Wood shouted angrily, running off to meet them. "Clear off before I get Professor McGonagall! I reserved the field for today."

Marcus Flint, a burly, troll-like player, laughed.

"I don't think so. We've got special notice from _our _Head of House. Read it an' weep, Wood."

Flint threw a slip of paper over at Wood, who snatched it up angrily and read the message.

He looked up from the paper warily. "Says you can use the field because you've got a new Seeker. Who is it, then?"

A blond boy stepped out of the pack of players, a typical sneer upon his face. He held his arms out wide, cherishing the looks of disbelief the Gryffindors adopted at that moment.

"Did someone say Draco Malfoy?"

"Wha – Ig – No – _You?_"

Wood was having trouble forming a coherent sentence; his anger was that great. He pointed at Draco, turned, took a few steps, turned back, and stuttered again.

"If you think that's the worst bit," Draco continued, "wait 'til you see _this_."

The Slytherin players held out their brooms. The sleek, black handles – _new _handles – gleamed in the fresh morning air. Inscribed in gold ink were the words _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_.

"Latest model," Draco said proudly, stepping past Wood and towards Harry. "Two kilometers per hour faster than the _Two Thousand_. Also has new aerodynamic technology, a more reinforced frame, and chrome plating. Cool, huh, Potter?"

Flint laughed again. "So get off of our field, _losers_."

"HEY!"

The Slytherin team looked behind them, just as Ron and Hermione came running onto the field. Hermione was the one who had shouted.

"Hey!" she said again, quite angrily, coming up to Flint. "You can't just barge up here and push another team off the field! It states clearly in the school handbook, section thirty-two, subsection B4, that –"

"Shut up, Granger!" Flint boomed, taking a threatening step towards her. "Nobody asked your opinion."

Harry felt anger swell within him. "Marcus, you can just clear off, you git!"

"Make me!"

"Marcus, that's good for now," Draco Malfoy said suddenly. "I think we've intimidated the Gryffindor team enough..."

"You're just a bunch a' losers!" Flint bellowed. "Wait til we have a match – we'll stomp you into the ground!"

"Marcus!" Draco repeated sharply. "Let's go!"

Harry looked at Draco as if he were crazy. Why didn't _he _join in the name-calling?

"Potter? You listening? I just told you to _get off _our field!" Flint bellowed again.

Then, without warning, Flint reached into his pocket, took out his wand, and pointed it at Harry.

What happened next happened so fast that Harry hardly had time to react: spells shout out of both Flint's and Draco's wand, then Harry dodged the one meant for him in the nick of time. Next, Flint fell backwards from the force of his spell, and Draco's spell went sailing over him, striking Ron in the chest.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, as the ginger crumpled onto the ground. She bent over him and helped him sit up.

"Ron? Ron? Are you all right? Please, say something!"

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but he only made a gagging noise, and two horned slugs fell out of his mouth.

At this, the Slytherin team broke into mad laughter. Most of them fell onto the ground themselves, thrashing about and trying to breathe. Draco was laughing, too, but Harry noticed that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione said, heaving him onto his feet. "Let's take you to Hagrid's."

They carried Ron off the fields and across the Hogwarts grounds, and then propped him up against the wall of Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was in his garden, trying both hoe his plants and to ignore Lockhart, who was there with him.

"I say, these Russian Reticulated Rutabagas are coming along quite nicely! Are you giving them enough dragon dung, Hagrid?"

Hagrid grunted, leaning his hoe back against the garden fence. "Those are Chinese Chomping Cabbages, Professor."

"What? Oh, ah... yes! I see my mistake! Well, better wizards than me have been fooled by the closely striated leaves..."

"Ron! 'Arry! 'Ermione! Whatcha doin' here? Come on down ter see me, huh?" Hagrid opened the garden gate and ran out to meet his guests. "Welcome! Er, you _will _excuse me, Professor?"

"Of course!" Lockhart said with a gracious wave of his hand and a dazzling smile. "Just remember to keep those Chinese Chomping Cabbages properly pruned, lest they develop certain _tendencies_, hmm?"

"What an idiot," Hagrid muttered, once Lockhart was out of earshot. "Doesn't know a word he's talkin' about. Russian Reticulated Rutabagas! 'Onestly!"

At that moment, Phineas and Ferb came through the gates. "Hey, Hagrid! Hey, guys! What's up?"

"We're just talking about how Lockhart's an idiot," Ron said weakly, before heaving three more slugs onto his feet.

Phineas stared at the slugs for a while.

"Did I miss something?"

"Malfoy hexed him," Hermione said angrily, making the new slugs vanish with a wave of her wand. "Slug-Vomiting Curse. I don't know how to undo it."

Ferb raised his hand politely. He reached into the pocket of his purple overalls and pulled out a salt shaker.

Walking around to Ron's side, Ferb tilted Ron's head back a little bit, and shook a few tablespoons of salt into Ron's mouth.

Ron couldn't help but swallow some of it. As he did, the color returned to his face, and he stopped shaking as bad.

Hagrid shrugged. "Well, looks like that did th' trick! Why don't we go inside?"

The five students followed Hagrid into his hut. Unicorn hair hung in bundles from the ceiling, and there seemed to be bright orange, six-legged salamanders that were lying in the coals of his fire.

"Hey, Phineas," Harry said, remembering something suddenly, as Hagrid gave them all a chair and some of his treacle tarts. "Lockhart said he wanted to publish your book. Did he talk to you about it?"

Phineas shrugged and smiled. "Well, he talked to us. But it was really weird, right, Ferb?"

Ferb blinked.

"Anyways, Ferb and I stayed behind like he said, but he locked the door and pulled out his wand. He started to say something about us not needing to worry about a thing, and raised his wand on us. Then he stopped, and muttered about _you _having heard us talk. In the end, Lockhart let us go, and we didn't get anything published."

This story struck Harry as very odd. He remembered Lockhart's odd smile that day he'd learned about Phineas and Ferb's book, and him asking if anyone else had heard of it.

"Yeah, that _is _kind of fishy..." Harry agreed, after a few moments of consideration.

Phineas shrugged again, still smiling. Then, he looked out the window. "Oh, cool! Those are some wicked pumpkins, Hagrid. Quite immense."

"Aren't they, now?" Hagrid asked proudly, his chest swelling. "I've bin givin' them a... a bit o' help, ye know..."

Hermione sniffed and narrowed her eyes slightly. "Engorgement charm, I suppose? Not bad."

"Yeah, Ron's sister said so, too. She was here jus' yesterday – said she was just takin' a walk, but I reckon she was hopin' ter run into somebody else here." Hagrid gave a wry wink at Harry.

"It's just a preteen crush!" Harry protested angrily, as Ron began to giggle at him. "She'll get over it."

The five friends then said their good-byes to Hagrid and Fang, and proceeded to climb the hill back to the castle for their classes. Harry had just stepped past the threshold of the castle when a familiar and very despised voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Potter! Granger! Weasley!"

Severus Snape walked out of an adjourning hallway to the front hallway. In his wake, Marcus Flint and several members of the Slytherin team followed.

"My, my, my," Snape began, in his special tone of voice reserved only for those in serious trouble.

"Got into a bit of a fight, didn't we, Potter? Thought you could walk away scot free, hmm...?"

"_What_?" Harry asked, confused.

"That's him!" Flint said, and Harry noticed that Flint now had one of his arms in a cast. "He's the one!"

"Thank you, Flint," Snape said sharply, then turning his attention to Harry. "I like how you conveniently failed to report Flint's broken arm to any teacher, Potter. That'll be detention tonight, I'm afraid."

"But... but we didn't do anything to him!" Ron protested.

Snape smiled. "Well, even if you didn't, too late. You're doing detention."

Harry would have protested further, but he didn't have to.

Phineas Flynn, in his ever optimistic tone of voice, stepped closer to Snape.

"Y'know, Professor, that doesn't really seem fair to me. I mean, is Flint really telling the truth?"

"Doesn't matter!" Snape spat angrily. "I believe Flint is trustworthy."

Ferb walked up to Marcus Flint as Phineas was speaking to the Potions teacher.

"What're you doing, you green-haired freak?" Flint demanded, as Ferb leaned forward to examine his arm.

Ferb blinked.

Then he took out a chainsaw and, in a single motion, cut the cast in half.

The two halves fell off of Flint's arm, revealing the perfectly fine limb underneath.

"Voila!" Phineas said happily, as Ferb put his chainsaw away and walked back to stand next to his stepbrother. "You see, he was just faking. It'd like to restate my case that giving Harry and his pals detention isn't exactly fair."

Snape's head looked like an eggplant about to explode.

"Detention!" he finally sputtered, pointing at Phineas and Ferb. "Both of you now get detention along with the others! Weasley, Fletcher, and Granger, you'll be cleaning trophies with Filch. Flynn and Potter, somebody has already made a _special _request for your detentions. I do hope that it involves something horrifying, disgusting, or life-threatening. Good night."

And that's how, later that night, Harry and Phineas found themselves staring at the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom.

Harry looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "This is going to _suck_. I'd rather hang by my ankles in Filch's dungeon than do _this_."

Suddenly, the door swung open, and both boys were nearly blinded by the dazzling smile of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Evening, boys!" he said cheerily. "Ready to do some business, hmm?"

Then, Lockhart looked around.

"Say, where's that quiet, green-haired boy?"

"Oh, Ferb?" Phineas asked. "He's cleaning trophies with Filch over there. Sure hope he's enjoying himself. I expect he'll be done by now – I gave him a blueprint for the Waxatron 5000!"

"So he's not _here_?" Lockhart whined, his shoulders sagging. "Well, then, what's the _point _of you two? I needed all _three _to do the cha -"

"What exactly is the 'point,' Professor?" Harry interrupted. "Why do you need all three of us?"

Lockhart managed to replace his smile. "Nothing, nothing, Harry! Come on in. We'll have a grand old time together, anyway!"

Waving his cloak of sumptuous violet all the way, Lockhart led the boys to his front desk, which was piled with letters.

"Fan mail!" Lockhart announced, sweeping his arm over the envelopes. "Why don't you boys get busy and start answering? Every ten letters or so, send a signed picture, will you?"

Phineas laughed. "Wow. Fan mail? That's it? I could do this in my sleep!"

It wasn't very hard, Harry thought to himself after a while, but it was very boring. There was nothing to look at in the room except endless posters of Lockhart on the walls. After about two hours, his hand began to cramp, and exhaustion seemed to overtake him.

Harry had just leaned back in his chair to take a breather, when he heard something... strange.

As it grew louder, coiling in the empty room ominously, Harry could make out a voice. The voice was icy, cold... it made his blood freeze instantly... he held his breath and listened...

"_Ssssssssssssssss... Ssssssssssssss... Ssssssssssssssssss..."_

"What?" Harry asked quietly, sitting up. "Who's there?"

"_Ssssssssssssss... Ssssssssssssssss... Ssssssssnaakeee... I'm a ssssssnaakeeee... _

"_Oh, where'd my armsss go? Just kidding I'm a ssnaaakeee..."_

"WHAT?" Harry yelled, jumping out of his chair.

"I know!" Lockhart said happily. "Of course, I _knew _that my autobiography would make the Wizarding New York Times' bestseller list."

"No, not that, Professor, that voice!"

Lockhart blinked. "What voice?"

"That one I just heard!" Harry leaned over the desk. "Phineas! Didn't you hear it, too?"

Phineas woke up, and yawned. "What? Sorry, Harry, I was busy writing letters in my sleep. What happened?"

"Augh!" Harry yelled in frustration. "Didn't _anybody _hear that voice except for me?"

"Y'know, Harry," Phineas said kindly, "there's this thing called schizophrenia. When one has schizophrenia, one often hears voices in one's head and –"

"I'm not mental!" Harry said. "It was a _real voice_! It said something about its arms being gone..."

"I... think you need some sleep, Harry," Lockhart said, looking at Harry as if afraid he would jump up and attack him. "What time is it? Four o'clock in the morning? Well! Time sure flies when you're serving detentions! Why don't you boys hit the sack?"

Harry tried to convince them again about the voice, but Lockhart just laughed nervously and herded him out the door, quickly slamming it shut once they had left.

Ron was waiting just outside the door.

"There you are!" he said. "I've been waiting here for ages, honestly, Harry! Was that git ever planning to let you go?"

"Ron, did you hear anything strange out here?" Harry asked quickly, running up to Ron.

Ron looked puzzled. "No, not really. Why d'you ask?"

"Harry heard a voice talking about missing limbs," Phineas explained. "I was sleeping at the time, so it was possible."

"And Lockhart didn't hear it?" Ron asked.

"No, no he didn't."

Harry was standing near the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "It was right about there!" he said excitedly. "Right there, I heard it..."

"Mate, you need some sleep," Ron said flatly, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and dragging him off in the direction of the Gryffindor commons.

"But I really did hear it!" Harry protested, staring at the ceiling.

"Harry, come on. How could it have come from the wall?" Ron countered.

Harry shook his head slowly.

"I don't know... I don't know..."


	14. Doofenshmirtz Arrives

A/N: Hi, everybody. First – short chapter. Very short. But important. This is, regretfully, all we're going to see of Doofy until the end of the year, but it'll be all the more funny if you don't see what he's doing til then. Also, I've been thinking that with seven (and possibly eight) Fanfictions, I might run out of characters if I do six every chapter. Just to be on the safe side, I'm cutting that down to three. I mean, I don't think anyone cares that much... it's just FYI. Now read and review! And don't forget to guess at the animal agent featured this year! _Au revoir_!

... or Irving or Justin Finch-Fletchly or Pinky the Chihuahua or...

"Well, well, well, Carrie the Cephalopod!"

Doctor Doofenshmirtz stood on the shores of Hogwarts Lake, but at a very safe distance from his foe's tentacles.

"It's been a year, hasn't it?" Doofenshmirtz asked. "First, I would like to thank you again for letting me go. That... that was very nice. I was surprised. Really – I was."

The large pink squid glared at him from the water.

"Would... would you let me go again? If I wanted to cross the lake?"

The giant squid's look was answer enough.

"No? Please? _Pretty_ please, Carrie the Cephalopod?" Doof begged, clasping his hands together beseechingly.

This time, Doofenshmirtz was doused by a huge blast of water that Carrie squirted at him from the lake.

"Oh, come on!" Doofenshmirtz said angrily, shaking his dripping hands. "That was not very nice, Carrie the Cephalopod! All I want to do is cross this moat, enter the castle, and take it over for my new hideout!

"I mean, at least for a year. Is that so bad? Hmm, Carrie the Cephalopod? Is that_ really _so bad?"

"Fine!" Doofenshmirtz answered himself, as the squid prepared to squirt more water at him. "Well, in case you've forgotten, I don't even _need _your help! I'll just use the tunnel that I built last year! Ha ha! See you on the other side, Carrie the Cephalopod!"

The mad scientist cackled with glee, dashing into a tunnel dug in the side of a hill.

The passageway was dark and damp from the lake above it. Doofenshimrtz had brought a flashlight, but as he continued along, the flashlight grew dimmer and dimmer, until it just stopped working altogether.

"Must be halfway across," Doofenshmirtz muttered to himself, shaking and hitting the flashlight. "All that dratted hocus-pocus in the air..."

"WHAA!"

Doofenshmirtz was suddenly thrown to the side of the tunnel, hitting one of the walls. Standing up shakily, he braced himself against the tunnel.

"Who's there?" he asked.

Another large _thump _from above, which sent him sprawling on the ground, was the response.

"Carrie the Cephalopod? Are you trying to break the tunnel open from up there?"

_THUMP._

With this shaking, Doofenshmirtz felt a few pieces of earth fall from the tunnel ceiling. He also heard something next to the tunnel crashing.

"What? Is there another tunnel _next _to mine?"

Doofenshmirtz couldn't investigate, though, because Carrie _thumped_ on the tunnel again.

Suddenly, and quite surprisingly, the _floor_ of the tunnel caved in. Doofenshmirtz felt himself falling... falling... falling...

"AAAAAHHH !"

_Thump_. And _that _time, it wasn't Carrie attacking the tunnel.

Doofenshmirtz sat up, clutching his head.

"Wow - Okay, that hurt. I must have built the tunnel over some large, hollow cavity..."

His eyes nearly popped out just then, as he saw exactly what he'd fallen into.

"Oh, baby! Now _this _is more like it!"


	15. Candace?

A/N... or Marcus Flint or Marcus Belby or Veronica Smethley or...

The month of October was already halfway over with, and Halloween was fast approaching. Of course, for Harry, Halloween always had less than pleasant memories. For example, it was Halloween night that his parents had been murdered by the evil Lord Voldemort. And last Halloween, Harry and Ron had faced a gigantic mountain troll in a girls' bathroom and had nearly been clobbered to death. It was only Phineas, Ferb, and a giant floating baby head that had saved them from demise.

Consequentially, Harry's Halloween expectations were running a bit low.

To make matters worse, Wood insisted that they practice Quidditch every morning and evening, even during a five-day stint of rain.

One morning, after a particularly heavy downpour, Harry trudged through the hallways of Hogwarts, ready to go to the breakfast feast. His robes were drenched, and his shoes trailed mud everywhere.

Harry had just reached the Great Hall when he saw Nearly Headless Nick, who was floating a bit outside of the door.

"Unbelievable," Nick muttered, floating back and forth and scowling. "Simply _unbelievable_."

"Morning, Nick," Harry called, reaching out his hand to pull the banquet hall door open.

"Good morning, Harry. Say, Harry!"

Harry paused, his hand on the door handle. "What?"

Nearly Headless Nick came over, a curious expression on his face. "Do _you _believe that a half-an-inch makes a lot of difference? Do you think that a half-an-inch is enough to raise an enormous hoopla?"

"Of course not," Harry said mechanically. By the look on the ghost's face, he was supposed to agree.

"Thank you!" Nick exclaimed, throwing his transparent hands in the air. "And yet!"

Nearly Headless Nick reached a hand into his robes and pulled out a ghostly letter.

"I've been rejected _again_ to join the Headless Hunt! All because of a _half-an-inch _of skin that keeps my head attached to my shoulders! Half-an-inch, Harry!"

"I'm awfully sorry, Nick," Harry said, impatient to go eat.

"I suppose that _Sir Properly Decapitated Padmore_ will show up at my Deathday party just to shove it in my face..." Nick muttered, preparing to float off, but keeping the corner of his eye on Harry.

"Deathday party?" Harry asked.

"Oh, my dear boy!" Nick quickly turned around, his arms wide open. He'd obviously made that last comment to pique Harry's interest and keep him talking. "A Deathday party is the morbid celebration of the day of a ghost's dismemberment. My Deathday party is on Halloween, just two weeks away! If you could come and tell Sir Padmore just how frightening and intimidating I am..."

"Uh... sure?"

"Splendid!" Nick exclaimed. "I can't thank you enough, my boy! See you there!"

Harry watched Nearly Headless Nick float off, quite pleased with himself. But as soon as the ghost had rounded the corner, Harry pulled open the doors to the Great Hall and practically ran to the Gryffindor table.

"Oi, Harry!" Ron said, waving him over. "Saved you a seat. Practice again?"

"Yeah," Harry groaned, reaching out for a biscuit. "Wood insists that playing in all this rain builds character. But it was kind of funny – a few minutes after he said that, when we were changing in the lockers, Fred and George dumped a barrel of water on him, saying that 'it builds character.' That almost made it worth it."

Ron nodded sagely and resumed his stack of pancakes.

Nobody really wanted to talk any more during the meal. Hermione was reading a book, Harry was trying to stop himself from shivering, and Ron was busy eating.

Their breakfast might have gone on like that – quiet, undisturbed, pensive. That is, unless something quite _interesting _hadn't happened.

_BANG. BANG. BANG. _

"PHINEAS! Open up this door NOW! I know you're in there, you little DWEEB!"

Many students dropped their food in shock. Everyone slowly turned to stare at the doors to the Great Hall. Who in Merlin's name was _that_?

Phineas, on the other hand, got up from the Ravenclaw table and walked to the doors. He opened one warily.

"Oh, hey, Candace! What are you doing here?"

Again, silence in the Great Hall. It felt forbidden to do anything except stare at the teenage girl who had just been let in.

Candace Flynn stepped into the Great Hall and eyed the room cynically. "Well, this is a big place. How much space do you wizard people _need_, exactly?"

"Wait, you're _Candace_?"

Penelope Clearwater, another Ravenclaw student, gaped at her. "Are you a Muggle? You can't be here!"

"Okay, sister" Candace said, annoyed. "Do you have a _problem _with me being here?"

Penelope, still a tween, turned away, obviously a bit burned by the teenager attitude.

"Well, sis," Phineas said. "We all _are_ kinda wondering why you're here."

Candace looked shocked. She put her hands on her hips. "Me? I'm here to keep you from making your crazy, dangerous inventions – like always. Trust me, Phineas, if you do _anything_, even way over here in England –"

"Actually," Ferb noted, still sitting at the Ravenclaw table, "Hogwarts is in Scotland."

"Scotland! Whatever!" Candace shouted at him angrily. "The point is, even over here, I'll bust you to Mom faster than you can pull out a blueprint from nowhere!"

She did the _I'm-watching-you _movement with her hands and eyes, trying to appear threatening.

Professor Dumbledore, somewhat over his initial shock of seeing the second Muggle in all of Hogwarts history walk into the school, stood up at the High Table.

"I'm very sorry, Miss Flynn, but as you are a Muggle, and your reason for being here is simply to, 'bust your brother,' I have no choice but to send you home."

"But he's going to get in trouble!" Candace argued. "He'll build some sort of wacky... thing! And it'll put everybody in danger!"

"She has a point," Professor Sprout said suddenly, and all eyes turned to rest on her. "A few Hufflepuff students I talked to said that a remote control device built by him destroyed Greenhouse Three."

"See!?" Candace asked, smiling and pointing at Phineas as if her point had been made. "He needs mature guidance! I am here to provide him with such, as a sensible and focused adult figure!"

Dumbledore shook his head politely. "That's still not a very valid reason. Once again, I'm sorry, Miss Flynn, but you'll have to go home. We just can't have Muggles roaming the halls if they aren't even going to participate in classes. I'll contact the Department of Magical Transportation in the morning, and by the end of this week we'll have something arranged."

"Here, Candace, come sit with us!" Phineas said, pulling Candace's hand towards the Ravenclaw table.

Candace looked up at the roof. "Why isn't there any ceiling?"

"Oh, it's just a spell. It reflects the weather outside."

"Why's there a banner with a bird above the table?"

"Well, this is the Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts."

Candace blinked. "Sooooo... it's a raven?"

"No, actually, it's an eagle."

She frowned. "Then why's your House called Ravenclaw? That doesn't make any sense. It's stupid." Candace looked around. "Is this the House for stupid people?"

Back at the Gryffindor table, Ron had nearly choked on his toast.

"Can you believe it?" he asked incredulously. "I mean, when Phineas described his sister, I pretty much imagined an obsessive bundle of unbridled neuroses, but nothing _this _bad!"

"It's odd, though, isn't it?" Hermione asked as she watched Candace. "I mean, she crossed the ocean just to puppy guard her brother. Why?"

"Earth to Hermione! She's an obsessive bundle of unbridled neuroses!" Ron said, flailing his arms about. "If I had a sister like that at home, I'd bolt in nothing flat. It's dead scary."

Harry snapped his fingers suddenly and sat up. "Oh, that reminds me. Nearly Headless Nick invited me to his Deathday party. You guys want to come?"

"Of course!" Hermione said immediately, looking excited. "Very few living people get to attend one of those. I could write a report for extra credit!"

"Should I ask Phineas and Ferb?"

Ron shuddered. "Yeah, but not their sister. She's way too creepy."

After breakfast, morning classes began. Ever since he'd accidentally destroyed the Greenhouse and a full crop of mature mandrakes, Sprout hadn't been quite as kind to him. She never gave him points, not even today, when he was the first one to successfully prune a Belgian Belligerent Blackberry.

Transfiguration was boring, as always. Harry eventually gave up trying to turn his sparrow into a spoon and just nudged the bird around his desk with the tip of his wand.

The third class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. As usual, Phineas and Ferb had reserved a seat over in the far back. Today, however, they weren't alone – Candace was sitting there as well.

Phineas waved them over. "Hey, guys! How's it going?"

Harry shrugged, trying not to look at Candace. "Okay, I guess."

"Candace, you remember Harry, Ron, and Hermione, right? They helped us fight Quirrel, Voldemort, and that pharmacist guy last year!"

She rolled her eyes. "That's something I'd actually _like _to forget."

"Candace has been following me to all of Ferb and my classes," Phineas explained, as Hermione and Ron sat down. "No other place for her to go, really. But it's cool having you around, Candace. I'm so excited to show you about magic and stuff!"

Today's lesson with Lockhart was simply him reading off a favorite passage from _Gadding with Ghouls_. He acted out the parts himself and tried to do different voices as he read. The class just fell asleep, but Lockhart didn't notice (he never did).

Candace blinked at Lockhart as he kept reading. "Who's _this _guy?" she asked Phineas.

"This is Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. He's our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year."

Candace coughed a little bit. "Does he read from his own books every class?"

"Most every class. But it's almost over now. We've got Charms next."

Candace tried to say something else, but another cough came on.

"Everything all right, there?" Lockhart asked, graciously pausing from his reading.

Red blotches began to creep up Candace's cheeks.

"Say, are there any wild parsnips in that hair cream of yours?" she asked, her throat raw.

Lockhart smiled. "Why, yes!" He fluffed up his hair and admired it in a mirror hanging on the wall. "Yes, do you like it? I find that it's a magnificent colour restorer."

Candace began to choke and gag.

"I need to take some allergy pills!" she wheezed, jumping out of her seat and running out the front door.

Lockhart watched her run out, puzzled.

"Odd," he finally said. Then he happened to glance up at the clock. "Oh, well! Eleven o'clock already! Better get a move on to your next classes, chaps! See you tomorrow!

"Oh, er... Harry, Phineas, and Ferb, could you stay after for just a minute? Thanks, lads!"

Once the rest of the class had left, and the three boys were alone with Lockhart, Lockhart sauntered casually over to the door.

He then bolted it shut.

"Boys, boys, boys," Lockhart said, grinning a slightly evil grin again. "You've given me a lot of trouble. Why, Phineas and Ferb's book should have come out weeks ago!"

"Did you find a publisher?" Harry asked.

Lockhart laughed. "You could say that, I suppose... You could say that..."

After a few more moments, Lockhart reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. "The three of you know something. If this is going to go according to my plan, then that has to be changed. Only you three know about Phineas and Ferb's book series –"

"Well, actually, sir," Phineas interrupted, a smile on his face, "Candace also knows about it. She tried to show it to Mom, but the pile disintegrated before she could."

"_What_?" Lockhart demanded loudly, looking exhausted and frustrated. "Now _she _knows, too? Come _on_!"

Harry stared at Lockhart. "Professor?"

"Now there's _four _of you that I need to talk to at the same time!" he complained to the room, walking around and holding his hands to the sky. "This is ridiculous! It's even harder than that time I had to find that old hermit living in the Swiss Alps just because he _might _have been listening when..."

Lockhart stopped mid-step and mid-sentence. He turned around to face the three boys, a very forced smile on his face.

"Why don't you boys head out now? Nothing to discuss yet about the books. Go on, spit spot, see you later!"

Lockhart shoved them out of the door and slammed it shut again.

"Hmm," Phineas said, once they were outside. "Weird. Oh, well. See you later, Harry."

"Wait, Phineas!" Harry said quickly. "D'you want to meet us up at Hagrid's hut? We're just going for a visit before Halloween."

"Consider the rendez-vous scheduled," Phineas cheerily, waving good-bye. "See you after classes."

Nothing worth note really happened the rest of Harry's classes. But Harry _did_ spend a lot of time thinking about how odd Lockhart kept acting about Phineas and Ferb's book. Why couldn't he find a publisher? Why did he keep pulling his wand out and locking the door? Did Lockhart have some kind of secret he didn't want them to know? He _had _mentioned something about the three of them knowing something...

Harry decided to give it a rest. The classes came and went as usual, and soon Harry found himself descending the hill to Hagrid's house. The pumpkins in Hagrid's yard had at least doubled since he last saw them, although one of them had fallen victim to some pranking seventh-years.

"Hello, Hagrid," Harry called, stepping up to the door and knocking.

"Who's there?" Hagrid asked loudly.

Harry was about to answer, but had to quickly jump back as Hagrid threw the door open, his umbrella in hand and a grave expression on his face.

"Oh, 'Arry! It's jus' you." Hagrid looked really relieved.

"Were you expecting somebody else?"

Hagrid shrugged, his smile sagging a little. "Doesn't matter. But 'Arry, jus' in case... keep that cloak a' yours handy," he whispered to Harry.

Wondering who on Earth Hagrid was expecting to be acting this way, Harry entered the hut. Hermione and Ron had already arrived, along with Phineas, Ferb, and Candace.

Hagrid picked up a chipped mug from his mantle and began filling it with tea for Harry. His hand was shaking slightly, and he kept glancing to the door.

"There y'are, 'Arry," Hagrid muttered, setting the mug down in front of him.

"Say, Hagrid," Phineas asked concernedly, "are you feeling OK?"

"Jus' a little nervous," Hagrid admitted. "Been gettin' bad news from Dumbledore. He said that I might be in a bit o' trouble fer something..."

Suddenly, there were three loud knocks on the door.

"Dragon bogies!" Hagrid swore, dropping a mug he was filling for himself. "Get behind that cloak, 'Arry! You lot, go on, everyone!"

Harry unfolded his cloak, as the knocks came again, impatient to enter. "There's not enough room for all six of us!" he said in a panic. "What do we do?"

Phineas rubbed his chin. "Well, I could try _this..._"

Phineas pulled out his Random Thing Flinger. He aimed it towards a corner of the hut, and pulled the trigger.

With a small _bang_, something flat in camo-colors popped out.

"A duck blind?" Hermione asked with much surprise.

Ferb shrugged. "Well, if it works with ducks..."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron slid under the cloak. Phineas, Ferb, and Candace hid themselves behind the duck blind.

"Hagrid!" someone said sharply. "Open this door immediately!"

Hagrid, his umbrella in hand, opened the door up.

As soon as he did, his eyes narrowed. "Lucius Malfoy," he growled. "An' jus' what are ye doin' here?"

Lucius Malfoy glided into the room with an air of importance. "Just some Ministry business, Hagrid," he said oily.

"An' what's this 'Ministry business?'"

Lucius reached into his robe and pulled out a letter.

"Rubeus Hagrid. The Ministry is concerned that you've been using magic without permission."

"Preposterous!" Hagrid boomed, standing up straight in anger.

Lucius lifted an eyebrow. "Really? And those pumpkins outside are growing naturally?"

Hagrid opened his mouth to deny it, but it was obvious far beyond the point of arguing. Instead, he grunted, and said, "So the Ministry's here to arrest me fer some pumpkins, right?"

"Not just the pumpkins, Hagrid," Lucius said, tucking the letter back in his pocket. "We've had tip-offs about other instances. Last year, you used an Acceleration Charm to move a boat faster. That same year, we found evidence of your placing an Animal-Repelling Border Spell around your house. This year – the pumpkins."

"What's yer point?" Hagrid asked threateningly.

"The point is," Malfoy continued, thoroughly enjoying the look on Hagrid's face, "if we find any further evidence of spell work by you, you'll be put in Azkaban. In fact, we're considering pressing charges just for the spells we found thus –"

Lucius's eyes suddenly moved from Hagrid to a small corner of his hut.

"Why is there a large, grassy wall over there?"

"Nothing!" Hagrid shouted quickly, but Lucius was already walking towards it.

He lifted up his wand. "_Evanesco!_"

The duck blind shuddered once, and then vanished into thin air.

"Hi, Mister Malfoy!" Phineas said cheerily.

Lucius's mouth crinkled, like he smelled something very unpleasant. "Well, if it isn't the Muggle, his brother, and... and... "

He stared hard at Candace. "Just _who _are _you_?"

Candace cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. "Uh, who are _you_?"

"Candace, this is Lucius Malfoy," Phineas explained, still smiling and happy. "He's Draco's father. You met Draco in our History of Magic class, remember?"

"Draco? You mean that little jerk who called me filthy?"

"_What_ did you just call my son?"

"A _jerk_," Candace repeated haughtily.

Lucius's face turned from showing disgust to showing incredible anger. "You _dare_!" he yelled, stepping towards Candace, pointing at her furiously.

"Well, he _was _a little jerk!" Candace said, stepping forward as well.

"Whoa, sis, you _might _want to back off," Phineas advised, pulling his sister back by her hand.

Now Malfoy looked ready to explode. "She's your _sister!? _Isn't she a Muggle, too?"

"Yes, yes she is."

For a few moments, all Lucius Malfoy could do was stare at Candace. Then, enraged, he turned to Phineas.

"Are you bound and determined to fill this dignified school with dirty, common blood?!" he demanded loudly, now miles beyond furious. "How many more Muggles do you plan to bring here?! Are you not going to stop until _Muggles_ can run freely along the hallways, snooping into classrooms, stealing magical secrets?"

"Now, Mister Malfoy!" Hagrid thundered, stepping between him and the children. "I think that's jus' about enough! Why don't ye head back to your Ministry?"

"Indeed, I will!" Malfoy shouted, turning around to storm out of the door. "And I'll certainly complain about two Muggles that have free-range of the castle!"

With that, he ran out the door and _slammed_ it shut, so hard that a picture frame fell off of Hagrid's shelves and smashed on the floor.

Hagrid made a growling noise in the back of his throat. "Well, at leas' he's gone now. Come on out, everybody else."

"Guess the duck blind didn't work," Phineas said, still quite happy. "Oh, well. It was worth a try, right, Ferb?"

Ferb blinked.

Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of himself and his friends. "Blimey, I _hate _that guy. You can see where Draco gets it from, eh, Harry?"

Nodding, Harry sat back down in his chair. He wanted to say how unfair it all was, but everybody knew it wasn't fair. If Hagrid wasn't more careful, he'd be in trouble.

"What's Azkaban, Hagrid?" Harry asked instead, trying to take his mind off of Malfoy.

"Wizard prison," Hagrid said softly. "The guards are these soul-suckin' creatures called dementors. But I don't wanna get too much into that – that's all in the next book fer you guys. Ye'll see what I mean on the train ride ter Hogwarts next year."

Harry nodded slowly, picking up his mug with tea.

"Well, you shouldn't worry too much, Hagrid," Phineas said suddenly. "Ferb and I once busted out of a high-tech prison for children. If we can break outta there, we'll come and rescue you from Azkaban."

If any other child had said it, it would have lightened the mood. Instead, the air seemed all the more colder and tighter. Hagrid nodded seriously, and drank from his steaming mug.

"Thanks," he said roughly.


	16. The Writing on the Wall

A/N: ... or Gladys Gudgeon or Argus Filch or Mrs. Norris or...

It was Halloween night, finally. Harry had been feeling worse and worse about agreeing to the Deathday party as the date approached. He would be missing a huge feast in the Great Hall, as well as a dancing skeleton troop that Dumbledore had scheduled for entertainment.

"You _did _promise," Hermione kept reminding him curtly.

Now, on Halloween night, Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited outside of the Ravenclaw commons for Phineas and Ferb.

"Hey, guys," Phineas said, hopping down the stairs with his stepbrother. "Ready to go?"

"_Yes_," Ron said exasperatedly. "The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave, right?"

Hermione elbowed Ron. "Come on! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! How many people can honestly say that they attended a Deathday celebration?"

"Yes, and how many people would actually _want _to say that they attended a Deathday party?"

Ron continued his protesting all the way across Hogwarts castle. Nick had had his party set up in one of the dungeons, so it was quite a ways away. By the time they got there, Ron had put everybody in a bad mood.

"I'm just glad that you talked Candace out of coming," Ron said as they approached.

Phineas laughed. "_Talked _her _out _of it? We wanted her to come! Nah, she's in the commons right now, trying to get her phone to work."

"You didn't tell her technology doesn't work here?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Of course we did. She doesn't want to believe it."

As the five of them walked down the hallway, it grew colder and colder, like they were descending into a giant freezer. Black, moldy curtains lined the walls, and jet-black candles with eerie blue flames were placed every few feet or so.

At the end of the hallway, Nearly Headless Nick was ushering his guests in.

"Welcome," Nick said to them sorrowfully. "So pleased you could come..."

Inside, the dungeon had been decorated with more of the candles and curtains. On a crumbling stage, ghostly musicians played ghostly instruments, sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

The worst part was the smell. At first, Harry didn't know what the stench in the air (which was currently making him very nauseous) was, but he eventually traced it to an array of food. Harry saw trays of green and white fuzzy cheese, black salmon with a mushroom growing out of it, and other very gross items.

"I think... I'm going... to be sick..." Ron muttered, turning green as he saw the 'feast.'

Phineas looked around. "Well, this is... _interesting_."

"Welcome, young Harry and friends."

Nearly Headless Nick drifted up to them. "I'm glad you're all here. Enjoying yourselves?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly, elbowing Ron again, who had been about to say something rather rude.

Nick nodded. "Good." He looked around the dungeon. "A nice turnout, eh? Pariah's Bane came all the way over from Amity Park."

Across the room, Harry spied a white-haired, green-eyed, teenage boy.

Phineas waved. "Hey, Danny!"

The boy waved back, and winked at Phineas.

Nearly Headless Nick cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse me, Harry, I must start my Deathday speech."

Nick floated up the stairs to the stage. As he ascended, the orchestra stopped and waited patiently.

"My dearly departed friends," Nick began, but that was as far as he got. Suddenly, a group of ghostly horses flew through the dungeon walls, and all of the guests scrambled to get out of their way.

All of the horses were ridden by headless men – some had their heads on, others carried them under their arms, and a few were juggling their heads as they entered.

The audience laughed and applauded, as the horsemen came to a grinding halt and juggled their heads for a while longer. Eventually, one of them dismounted and floated up to Nearly Headless Nick.

"Nicholas!" he exclaimed, setting his head back on his shoulders. "How're you doing? Head still hangingin there?"

The audience howled with laughter at the joke, forgetting at once that they were here to commemorate somebody's death.

Nick's face became flushed with silver. "Sir Padmore," he said irritably. "I really don't remember inviting you and the Headless Hunt."

"Still bitter?" Padmore asked, laughing. "Of course, it's not your fault that your executioner was untalented. Shame you weren't able to afford a better one!"

"Excuse me, sir?"

Sir Padmore stopped laughing. He looked down and saw Phineas Flynn standing there.

"Yes, my young man?"

"Well, I don't mean to be discourteous," Phineas said politely, "but isn't barging into somebody else's celebration to make fun of them inherently rude?"

A lot of the audience members gasped, which was remarkable, since ghosts don't breathe. Had that child just insulted _Sir Padmore_, leader of the _Headless Hunt_?

Sir Padmore seemed shocked, and mildly annoyed as well. He plucked his head off of his shoulders and held it in Phineas's face, probably in an attempt to intimidate him.

"Look here, boy – you have _no place _to just walk up and insult me!"

Phineas blinked. "Then... why'd _you _do it to _him_?"

"The nerve of this child!" Padmore exclaimed, growing angrier by the minute. He turned to Nick, clutching his head in his hand. "Tell this boy exactly _who _he is insulting, Nicholas!"

"Phineas," Nearly Headless Nick said quietly. "This is _Sir Padmore_. Don't get him mad, please, or my chances of getting into the Headless Hunt are dashed for good!"

"Why do you want to join so badly?" Phineas asked.

Nick put a hand to his chest in shock. "Phineas, the Headless Hunt is the most prestigious posthumous group there is!"

Ferb blinked. "I never trust anything with the word 'prestigious' in it. It just means 'snobbish.'"

"Are you calling me snobbish?" Sir Padmore asked in great fury.

Ferb blinked again. "Yes, yes I am."

"YOU LITTLE...!"

Sir Padmore reached out for Ferb (though, being a ghost, what he could have done was minimal).

Ferb took his hand and quickly flicked the ghost's head, which Sir Padmore had been holding in his hand. With that, the ghostly head went rolling across the floor like a bowling ball.

"Catch me! Catch me!" Sir Padmore's head screamed, as it continued to roll around the dungeon floor. "Don't just stand there – do something!" he shouted at the guests.

His body tried to help, but without the head, it just ran around in circles and eventually fell over.

"Catch me!" Sir Padmore's head yelled again. "Somebody! Anybody!"

Then, Sir Padmore's head rolled a few more feet and fell into a sewer drain on the dungeon floor.

His cries eventually faded as the ghostly head fell further and further down, until they were nothing more than a faint voice, and finally were silent.

The crowd stood, frozen, eyes glued to the place where the head had fallen. The silence was heavy and awkward.

Nearly Headless Nick coughed a little, and stepped forward. He looked down upon Sir Padmore's ghostly body.

"Now, I know that the boy's comment was a little harsh, but it's nothing to lose your head over."

The crowd erupted into laughing; the rest of the Headless Hunt took a few steps backwards, and then rode their horses back through the dungeon wall.

"Well done, Ferb!" Nick said gleefully. "That showed _him_!"

"What about his head?" Harry asked, staring at the sewer drain.

"Oh, the rest of the Headless Hunt will probably find it sooner or later. It's probably floating in the lake right now, in fact. But after that, I seriously doubt he'll have the nerve to make fun of me again!"

Hermione blinked. "But what about you joining the Headless Hunt?"

Nick sighed, and looked down at the ground. "Well, after that little 'episode,' I doubt that I have any hope of entering. I guess I just need to come to terms with the fact that, no matter what I do, I'll always be Nearly Headless."

"And that's not too bad, is it?" Phineas said. He winked at Ferb and said, "Besides, even like this, you're sure to find some way to _get ahead_."

Ron groaned from the pain of all the head jokes. "Can we leave yet?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Phineas, and Ferb waved good-bye to Sir Nicholas, who kept exclaiming that this was, by far, the best Deathday party he'd ever had. It felt good to get out of that freezing, smelly dungeon.

"Fresh air!" Ron exclaimed, taking a great big breath of it as soon as they were out. "Man, that place was cold and stinky and stuffy beyond belief! And, of course," he added, glancing at a clock on the wall, "the feast just let out, so we've missed it for good."

Harry laughed, and would have responded, but instead he froze.

"_Sssssssssssssssssssss... Sssssssssssssssssssss... Ssssssssssssssssssssss..._"

"Wait!" Harry shouted, adrenaline coursing through his body. "Listen!"

"_Sssssssssssssssssssss... Sssssssssssssssssssss... Sssssssssssnaaakee... I'm a giant sssssnaaakeee..."_

Hermione frowned. "What exactly are we listening for?"

"It's that voice!" Harry yelled frantically, running from wall to wall of the hallway, trying to figure out the source. Was it moving? It almost sounding like it was moving...

"_I'm ssssso big that you could make, like, a billion sssssshoes out of me... "_

"This way!" Harry began running down the hallways, following the voice. Behind him, slapping footsteps let him know that his friends were following close behind.

"Uh... I don't hear anything, Harry," Phineas said as he ran behind him.

"_Or maybe a million of those pursssesssss..."_

"UP HERE!"

"_Or two... __really__ big bootsss or sssomething sssssnaaakeee... "_

Sweat broke out on Harry's brow. "I think it's going to hurt someone!"

"_Oh, crap, I think that kid hearssssss me!"_

"Down the hallway!" Harry shouted again, knowing, somehow knowing, that it was somewhere around here, that they were on the right track...

"_I'd better get back... to the CHAMBER OF SSSSSSECRETSS!"_

Harry leaned against a column, panting. He'd led his friends halfway across the castle, up and down countless staircases, following some mysterious voice.

"It's gone," Harry gulped between breaths. "It's gone. Where did it go? Where _could _it have gone..?"

Ron gestured angrily around the hallway. "And what good has it done, Harry? You dragged us across Hogwarts, and there's nothing here!"

"Wait," Hermione suddenly said.

She looked beyond Harry, down the hallway, to where it met the wall at the very end. She began to walk towards it, very slowly, very cautiously.

"Look," she said, in a horrified whisper. "Look at the wall."

Harry turned and squinted his eyes. What he saw made him freeze with horror.

There, on the wall, in red, shiny letters, someone had daubed a message.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"And that's not all," Ron said quietly, raising a quivering hand to point at one of the torches.

There, hanging stiffly from the torch, was Perry.

"PERRY!" Phineas screamed, running up to the torch with Ferb. "Ferb, get him down from there! How are his vitals? Is he breathing? How's his blood pressure?"

Harry had never seen Phineas or Ferb this upset. It seemed impossible that the same two boys who could politely and optimistically face down major Dark wizards could look that panicked.

"Can I get a reading on his brain activity? Is there any nerve damage? Does he –"

"OH MY WIZARD GOD!"

The Halloween feast crowd had arrived in the passageway. A first-year Hufflepuff girl had been the first one to see the message, and she now was cowering from fright in the arms of her brother.

"What happened?" somebody from Gryffindor demanded.

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" a Hufflepuff whispered to his friend.

"Is that Phineas and Ferb's beaver-duck?!" a Slytherin asked bewilderedly.

"Who's 'the heir?'"

"Is that _blood_? I think I'm going to be sick..."

"SILENCE!"

Professor Dumbledore swept down the hallway, wand held out in front of him, looking very grave.

He walked up to Phineas and Ferb, who had taken Perry down from the torch and were checking his pulse.

"Please! Sir!" Phineas said frantically, holding Perry, stiff as a board, up to Dumbledore. "Can you do anything?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I will try."

He pulled out his wand and began tapping Perry, muttering things in a language that nobody else seemed to understand. Several minutes passed.

As Dumbledore was doing this, Phineas happened to look down at the ground. "Hey, what's this?"

He picked it up. It seemed to be some sort of fedora hat.

"Hmm. Hey, Ferb – look at this fedora. There's a... a sort of... mirrored sunglasses attachment here. Looks like it was employed. Do you suppose his attacker was wearing this?"

Ferb blinked.

They turned their attention back to Dumbledore, who was still muttering charms and frowning.

After a while, Dumbledore sighed and handed Perry back to Phineas. "I'm awfully sorry, boys," he said quietly. "But – he is not dead. That much I could find out. However, I am unable to cure him."

"Any ideas, Ferb?" Phineas asked his stepbrother worriedly.

Ferb blinked at Perry.

He took their platypus from Phineas and turned Perry over in his hands.

Without warning, Ferb suddenly took Perry by the tail and swung him down, hitting him hard against the castle floor

The jolt did it. Perry sprang back to life, squirming as Ferb held him in the air by his tail.

"Perry!" Phineas exclaimed, relief drenching his voice. He took Perry in his arms and held him close. "Oh, I thought we'd lost you, boy! I thought you'd... you'd..."

"_Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr_," Perry said, his voice muffled Phineas squeezed him lovingly.

Ferb sniffed and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Ah," Dumbledore said quickly, averting his eyes, just a bit embarrassed that a second year accomplished something that he couldn't. "Well, I'm glad thatwas solved. Though how Perry survived an attack like that, I cannot say. It's almost as if the _platypus _was the one wearing the mirrored sunglasses..."

(Perry the Platypus had, while nobody was watching, discreetly picked up his fedora and stowed it away again.)

Minerva McGonagall hurried up to Dumbledore. "But, then... what about... the _writing_?"

At her words, the entire crowd lifted their eyes to the red, dripping words.

McGonagall seemed very disturbed by the sight. "My. One wonders where they got all that... all that... blood."

Phineas looked up at the writing and blinked. "No, hang on a second."

He walked casually up to the writing. The words ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE were just low enough for him to reach.

The school watched as he carefully scrutinized the words, cocking his head this way and that, examining every one. He even stepped forwards and sniffed the words.

Then, without warning, Phineas lifted up his finger, touched the H on the word HEIR, and then brought his finger to his mouth and licked it.

"Phineas!" Hermione shrieked, as several students fainted from shock. "That's DISGUSTING!"

"No, guys!" Phineas said loudly. "It's... it's just ketchup."

Amazing how a simple statement like that could strike an entire school dumb.

"Ketchup?" Harry repeated blankly, after he had recovered from the sheer _huh?_ factor of Phineas's statement.

"Yeah. Ketchup."

Harry reeled backwards a bit and blinked. "Wow."

"Regardless of the substance of the message," Dumbledore continued, himself overcoming the _huh? _factor, "we need to treat this as a real threat. Something attacked Perry tonight, just a while ago. My most complicated healing charms did not work, and this leads me to suspect a Dark magic of the most vile sort."

The crowd stiffened as he spoke. Most of them were staring at the words upon the wall.

"You are all dismissed. And, please – do not wander hallways by yourself. It is foolhardy _at best _in _this_ castle."

The students shuffled away, back to their common rooms.

"Oh, Harry, Phineas, and Ferb? Might I have a word?

Harry turned around. "Sure, Sir."

"What is it, Professor?" Phineas asked, still clutching Perry.

Dumbledore lowered his half-moon glasses and fixed all three boys in his sharp but not unkindly stare.

"Do you know why Perry was the target of this attack?"

Phineas shook his head. "No, Professor."

Ferb blinked.

"Have you ever heard of the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Can't say I have, Professor," Phineas said happily.

"Me neither, Sir," Harry said.

Dumbledore sighed. "Remember last year, Phineas? I told you that if you chose to stay at Hogwarts, you would be in great danger. You have some very powerful enemies now, who aren't very pleased that a Muggle is staying here.

"Please be careful, Phineas and Ferb. You have awoken something very ancient and almost certainly Dark. That Perry was the one attacked tells me that this 'heir' is planning another attack."

"On who, Sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore sighed again. "On you, your sister, and your stepbrother."

"Wait, Candace!" Phineas said suddenly. "Is Candace okay? Where is she?"

"Relax," Dumbledore told Phineas. "Professor Flitwick has just informed me that he found your sister, safe and sound, asleep in the Ravenclaw commons with her phone in hand."

Phineas gave Ferb a meaningful glance. "Typical."

"Just a moment, Dumbledore!"

Snape was suddenly standing next to the Headmaster, that _somebody-is-in-trouble_ look on his face. "Potter, Weasley, Granger, Flynn, and Fletcher were not at the Halloween Feast this evening."

"We were at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party," Harry explained.

Snape smiled evilly. "Then why on Earth did you come halfway across Hogwarts, ten floors up, instead of going back to your commons?"

Harry got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. For a very understandable reason, he didn't want anybody else to know that he had been following a voice through the castle, which had just happened to lead to the spot of Perry's attack.

He swallowed. "We – uh – were... lost?"

"You know what, Potter?" Snape asked, a tone of delight creeping in his voice. "I don't believe that you're telling the truth."

"Well, I am," Harry said quickly, trying to look determined as possible.

"Dumbledore, I believe that this boy is hiding something," Snape said, turning around to face the Headmaster. "I would like to propose that his Quidditch privileges be taken away until he is more forthcoming with his information."

Dumbledore seemed vaguely annoyed by Snape. "Severus, really. I don't see how preventing Harry from playing Quidditch is going to improve anything. A second-year couldn't have done something like that, only a powerful Dark wizard."

Snape grimaced, obviously disappointed that Harry wouldn't be getting a punishment.

"You may go," Dumbledore said, nodding to the children. "We need to hold a staff meeting tonight, and it naturally falls upon me to organize it admist all the chaos. But Harry?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Last year, in my absence, you tried to take on Quirrel and Voldemort. Please, this year – just leave it to me and the staff. We are more than capable of handling this. I know you hate standing by and watching while your friends and peers are in danger, but Harry –"

Dumbledore's gaze was very stern as he continued. "I don't want you to endanger your life again. Stay out of this business, please."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Phineas, and Ferb walked down the hallways together, stopping back at the entrance to the Ravenclaw commons.

"Should I have told them about the voice?" Harry asked his friends, wondering if he'd made the wrong decision.

"Of course!" Hermione said immediately.

"Of course _not_!" Ron corrected her. "They'd think you're _mental_. Worse, they'd think that you had something to do with the attack."

"But why would I attack Perry?" Harry pointed at the teal-colored platypus under Phineas's arm. "Phineas and Ferb are my friends!"

Phineas laughed. "Well, knowing Snape and his abhorrence of you, he'd most likely come up with a way to blame you."

"Yeah," Ron said, "he could say that you've only been _pretending, _to earn their trust and then destroy them, or something twisted like that."

"We're missing an _enormous _point here," Hermione interrupted. "What's the Chamber of Secrets? What does it mean, it's been opened?"

Ron thought about it for a while. "Didn't the Sorting Hat mention something about it during the Start of Term Feast?"

"Whatever it is," Phineas said, "it sounds rather ominous and foreboding."

"And whatever it is," Harry added, remembering Dumbledore's words, "it's especially out to get Candace, Ferb, and Phineas."


	17. Moste Potente Potions

A/N: Just a heads-up, guys. I'm going on a trip to Canadia for two weeks in August, so, consequentially, there will be no updates during that time period. I'll try to have some stuff pre-typed to post when I get back.

... or Mister Borgin or Charlie Weasley or Moaning Myrtle or...

"I can't believe it!" Hermione said angrily, thumping her books down on the table. "Every single copy of _Hogwarts, A History_, has been checked out. And the waiting list is two whole months!"

"Why do you want it so badly?" Ron asked, careful to keep his voice down so that the paranoid librarian, Madam Pince, wouldn't scold him.

"The same reason everybody wants it," Hermione said simply. "To read up on the Chamber of Secrets legend. You know, I _have _a copy at home, but with all the Lockhart books I didn't have any room in my trunk..."

Harry was frantically scribbling on a piece of parchment. "Four feet," he muttered angrily. "A four-foot piece of parchment with a poem about Lockhart's defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf. Can you believe it?"

Hermione looked up at a clock. "Well, you'd better hurry up. Defense Against the Dark Arts is in five minutes."

Eventually, Harry gave up and rolled up his scroll. He, Ron, and Hermione headed off for Lockhart's classroom, taking their usual seat next to Phineas and Ferb when they arrived.

"No Candace?" Harry asked.

Phineas shook his head and smiled. "Nah, she can't come in here with her wild parsnip allergy. Her face gets blotchy and her voice goes all funny – not good," he told his friends in a revealing sort of whisper.

"Greetings!" Lockhart said joyfully, today in a robe of deep blue and silver thread. "Get those poems out, everybody. I'll be collecting them and then reading my favorites!"

Harry laughed at Hermione's expression when Phineas and Ferb pulled out an Odyssey- style epic that was over ten feet long. She wasn't used to being shown up.

Half of the class passed. Lockhart wasn't a very good reader, and even the rather good poems seemed dull when he presented them. Harry, along with the rest of the class, fell into their usual half-sleeping stupor as they waited for the class to be over.

Then, something quite unexpected happened.

Hermione raised her hand.

Lockhart had been reading Pavarti Patil's composition (_Lockhart heard a fearsome growl; He knew it was a werewolf's howl. He spun around and cast a spell; The Wagga Wagga Werewolf fell. Yaaaaaay Lockhart!)_ when this happened. He looked at her, a little confused.

"Er... Miss Granger? Something I can do for you?"

"Well, Professor," Hermione began tentatively, "I noticed this morning that your name was down for one of the people who checked out _Hogwarts, A History_. I was wondering if you might be able to... read a section out loud for us?"

"Read a section out loud?" Lockhart repeated. He smiled. "Now, why on Earth would I do that? What section would you even want me to read?"

"The one about the Chamber of Secrets?"

At those last three words, the class perked up. Everybody was instantly wide awake and practically begging Lockhart to read.

"It'll sound so good!" Lee Jordan said, knowing how to flatter Lockhart from weeks of hearing Lockhart flattering himself. "Your voice is perfect for readings, sir! You bring the words to life!"

"Yeah, please, Professor?" Seamus Finnigan asked.

"Please, Professor Lockhart?"

"Please?"

Lockhart seemed stunned by all the sudden attention. Students were shouting out praise for him left and right.

"Oh, all right!" Lockhart said, sending the class a mischievous sort of smile, as if he were doing this just because he liked them. "But _only_ because it'll help me prepare for my interview for _Witches Weekly _magazine!"

Lockhart went to his desk and pulled out a large, leather-bound book. It appeared ancient, if the condition of the cover was anything to judge by. He paged through, muttering, "_Chamber of Secrets, Chamber of Secrets, Chamber of Secrets... _ah, here!"

The class tensed up, all eyes riveted on Lockhart and the book.

"_The Chamber of Secrets,_" Lockhart read aloud, "_is half a historical fact and half a fanciful legend. It begins with an actual event. There were four spell casters that founded Hogwarts – Godric Gryffindor, Helena Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They were all notable wizards with special talents – Gryffindor was considered very bold and upholding of righteousness; Hufflepuff was renowned for her kindness and goodness; Ravenclaw known well for her beauty and wisdom; and Slytherin for his power and rare gift of being a Parselmouth, having the ability to talk to snakes. For a while, the founders operated in harmony, their goal to train children who showed signs of magic, in times when all sorcery was considered Dark and wizards were constantly being hunted down. However, as years passed, Slytherin began to express unease. He felt that Muggle-borns and Half-bloods were unfit to learn magic, considering them untrustworthy, unable to understand the true intricacies of magic. After a fight with Gryffindor one night, Slytherin left the castle forever, never to return._

"_This is where fact dissolves into fiction and truth becomes murky. Legend goes on to say that, before he left, Slytherin built a hidden chamber in Hogwarts, a chamber which only his chosen heir could open. Inside this chamber, a great monster supposedly lurks, ready to wake at the heir's call and rid the school of all those who were, in Slytherin's eyes, unworthy to learn magic."_

Lockhart closed the book and chuckled. "Bit of a... a dreary legend, that. But I'm sure that my sonorous voice made it all the more exciting, right?"

"What's the monster inside the chamber?" Lavender Brown asked.

Lockhart shrugged and laughed again. "It doesn't say. But, if the legend is true, then it's probably the same one that almost snuffed it for your beaver-duck, eh, Phineas?"

"Wait," Phineas said. "So, there's absolutely no mention, no clue, not even a vague _idea _what the monster in the chamber is?"

"Nope," Lockhart answered. "Why?"

Phineas looked out of the corner of his eye, thinking for a while. Then he turned to address both Lockhart and the class.

"Well, considering that Salazar _Slytherin_ built the thing in the first place, and Slytherin's _animal_ is a snake, and the book says that Slytherin was renowned for _talking _to snakes... Would it be too great a leap of logic to make to assume that the monster is some sort of... I dunno, _snake_?"

A 'that actually seems reasonable' vibe spread through the classroom. The students turned to talk with their friends, and there seemed to be a whole awful lot of nodding going on.

Lockhart himself had put a hand on his hips, staring at the floor as he considered.

"Wow," he said after a while, lifting his head up to address the classroom. "How come _we n_ever come up with ideas like that?"

After class let out, Phineas, Ferb, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked through the hallways for lunch. They passed the wall where the message was daubed, which still appeared the same as it had the first night they'd found it – except there was no platypus hanging from the torch, and Filch had a chair propped up against the wall where he kept watch.

"Man," Phineas said in a hushed voice as they passed. "Whenever we go past this hall, I keep thinking of Perry, hanging there, rigid and motionless..."

"Who d'you think could have done it?" Ron asked for the hundredth time that week.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Somebody who shares Slytherin's point of view about Muggles and Mudbloods. Possibly his heritage, too. But 'heir' might just mean a chosen person to carry on the work, not necessarily a relative."

"Who do we know who thinks like that?" Harry wondered out loud, keeping his eyes fixed on the message as they turned the corner. "Racist... stuck-up..."

"Chauvinistic," Phineas added. "Xenophobic... Antagonistic..."

The five friends turned to face each other.

"_Draco Malfoy_!" Ron said in an excited whisper. "Of course!" He slapped his forehead as if it'd been obvious all along. "Wasn't he just yelling at Candace for being a Muggle? Didn't he make fun of Phineas and the bookstore? It all fits! Let's go to Dumbledore right away!"

"Hold up, Ron!" Hermione barked, grabbing him by the arm as he started to run down the hallway to the Headmaster's office. "We can't just barge in there without any kind of proof!"

Phineas shrugged. "Then let's get proof."

"Like _what_?" Hermione asked crossly. "It's not as if we could get him to confess or anything..."

Harry groaned, looking at the message again. "If only we were Slytherins," he fumed. "I bet Draco's bragging all about it in his common rooms. Heck, he's probably enlisted Crabbe and Goyle as his sidekicks."

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes lit up like little candles. "That's it! Harry, you're a genius! Draco will _definitely _talk to Crabbe and Goyle. I read about a potion that would temporarily change us into other people – the Polyjuice Potion."

"Sounds cool!" Phineas exclaimed. "Let's make it!"

"Well, first we need the recipe," Hermione said. "Snape mentioned it in class a few days ago – he said it's in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_. And that book just happens to be in the Restricted Section."

"We'll just get a teacher to sign off on it," Ron said. "Go up to McGonagall and say it's for extra credit."

"No, no," Harry said, quite suddenly remembering Dumbledore. "Dumbledore doesn't want us to meddle in this. He's probably tipped off all the teachers."

"Nobody would give it to us _then_," Ron said grumpily, punching a suit of armor in the hallway. "If Dumbledore told them, they'd have to be _insanely _thick to sign for it..."

Hermione gasped; she turned around and quickly ran back towards their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Where are you going?" Harry yelled after her. Hermione didn't answer.

"Professor Lockhart!"

Lockhart had just stepped out of his classroom and was locking the door to go to lunch.

"Well, hello there, Miss Granger! What can I do for my favorite student?"

"I was just wondering," Hermione mumbled, digging through her pack of school things, and finally taking out a piece of paper. She scribbled something on it, and then held it out for him. "Do you think I could check this book out? I think that it would really help me understand the Potions of Deceit that you mentioned as you fought the Wagga Wagga Werewolf – "

"Ah, yes!" Lockhart said pleasantly, taking the paper and signing it without even reading the book's name. "Yes, it was getting rather boring while I held him down and waited for the Homorphus Charm to take effect. Reciting drills while fighting off dangerous beasts is a specialty of mine!"

Hermione breathlessly thanked Lockhart, taking the slip back with a slightly shaking hand. She and her four friends half-walked, half-ran to the library.

"Perfect!" Hermione said triumphantly. "I know that that was a bit of an impulse, but I don't want you two to be in danger," she said, addressing Phineas and Ferb.

"Thanks!" Phineas said warmly. "Though, to be honest, I'm a bit more concerned with Perry and Candace. Ferb and I can take care of ourselves. Right, Ferb?"

Ferb gave him the thumbs-up.

They entered the Hogwarts library. It was as it always was – stuffy, uncomfortable, and unbearably quiet. Madam Pince, the librarian, was sitting at a desk in front of the Restricted Section, acting as the guard.

"Hello," Hermione said, trying to be cheerful as she walked up to Madam Pince. "We'd like to check out this book..."

Madam Pince glared at Hermione. She snapped up the note that Hermione held out and spread it flat on her desk, hunched over it while she read.

"_Moste Potente Potions_?" Madam Pince squinted at the children, suspicious.

Hermione shifted her feet, a little nervous. "Er... yes...We'd like to check it out..."

"Please?" Phineas added brightly.

Madam Pince made a growling noise. She stared at the note for a long time, but could find nothing wrong. Eventually, she stood up and disappeared behind the tall shelves of the Restricted Section, emerging with an old, crumbling book.

"Here," she muttered, thrusting it at Hermione, still staring at her suspiciously.

"Thanks!" Hermione quickly said, and then dashed out of the library.

The five friends stopped just outside of the hallway, discussing what to do next.

"Now all we need is a place to brew it!" Ron said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "If we quick do it in some deserted hallway, we could have Malfoy's confession by tonight!"

Hermione stared at Ron. "Weren't you listening to _anything _that Snape said about the potion? It takes a month to brew! We need to find a nice, quiet, deserted room or something..."

Phineas smiled. "A quiet and deserted room? Ferb and I have got _just _the place."

"A _girls' bathroom?_"

Ron and Harry seemed stuck at the threshold.

"Come _on_," Hermione said, trying to pull Ron in. "We're doing this for the good of the school! Think of Phineas and Ferb!"

"But it's a _girls' bathroom_!" Ron repeated, holding onto the doorway as Hermione pulled. "Imagine if we're caught in here!"

Phineas smiled at Ron. "Well, considering that we're trying to brew a Restricted Section potion without the consent of any teacher and against the wishes of the school Headmaster, if we're caught, being in a girls' bathroom _won't _be the primary reason for our punishment."

Suddenly, a great splashing sounded from a toilet off to their left. Harry, Ron, and Hermione froze, as a ghostly figure popped up from one of the stalls.

Phineas waved. "Hey, Myrtle!"

"Oh, it's you," the ghost said glumly. She (for Harry was now able to see the ghost was a girl) slowly floated into the air, hanging a foot or so below the ceiling.

"Hullo, Phineas. Hullo, Ferb," she greeted, using that same glum tone of voice. "What're you doing here?"

"We're here to brew an illegal potion," Phineas said casually. "Would you mind if we used one of your stalls for a month?"

Myrtle didn't answer. She was staring at the three Gryffindors.

"What are _they _doing here?" she asked sharply.

"They're our friends. Myrtle, this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. They're Gryffindors."

Myrtle sniffed. She slowly floated towards the three Gryffindors in question. "Olive Hornby was a Gryffindor. She and her little friends came here all the time to make fun of me and my glasses... Yes, _stupid_ Myrtle, they would say... Fat, _ugly _Myrtle..."

Myrtle kept talking, but Harry tried to ignore her sobbing. "So, we've got the book. Why don't we sneak a cauldron down here tomorrow, and start with the ingredients in the weekends. We're going to need a plan to –"

"Ooh!" Myrtle suddenly said angrily, staring at the five students. "I was _talking_! But, of course, nobody _ever _listens to Moaning Myrtle!"

Myrtle gave a great wail, and then plunged herself into one of the toilets, sending water drops splashing all over the place.

"Who's _she_?" Ron asked, staggering backwards as toilet water flew towards him.

"Oh, that's just Moaning Myrtle," Phineas explained happily. "She was in Ravenclaw while she was living. Some of the other students told me about her last year, so Ferb and I came down to check it out. She's really not too bad if you get to know her. It's just like with meeting aliens, ancient Egyptian mummies, or lake monsters – be patient and courteous, and soon you might have a new friend."

Hermione cringed. "She's your _friend_? I've heard stories about how ill-tempered she is for ages!"

Phineas gave her a withering glance. "Hermione. She lives in a _toilet_."

"Point taken," Hermione grumbled. "Right, let's open this up and see what we need."

The five friends sat down on the slightly damp floor, in a circle. Hermione opened up _Moste Potente Potions _and paged through until she found the right page.

"Here we are – Polyjuice Potion," she said, pointing at the book. "Let's see, now... Most of these ingredients will be fairly easy, like the knotgrass and the leeches...

"Ooh, but powdered horn of a bicorn?" she mumbled to herself after a while. "And shredded skin of boomslang? That'll be tricky. We might have to break into Snape's private stores."

Both Harry and Ron's jaws dropped. Had Hermione Granger just suggested _breaking a school rule_?

Hermione must have noticed their expressions, because she frowned at them.

"Well, what?" she asked sternly. "There's some sort of monster – probably a snake, as Phineas pointed out – and it's going after him and his family! Don't you want to stop Draco from hurting them?"

"Of course," Ron said defensively, glancing at Phineas and Ferb. "But a month of brewing a potion? Breaking into Snape's office? Blimey, Harry, if you just knock Draco off of his broom at the Quidditch match tomorrow, you'll save us all a _lot _of trouble."


	18. The Rogue Bludger vs the Fireside Girls

A/N: ... or Olive Hornby or Dudley Dursley or Alicia Spinnet or...

It was amazing, Harry thought, mounting his broom just before the Quidditch match. A lot of very strange things this year had happened during breakfast, now that he thought about it. Ron's mum had sent the Howler at breakfast; Candace had shown up at breakfast...

But it was too late to think about that now – Madam Hooch motioned for the two teams to come on the field. Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood shook hands at her signal, admittedly a little harder than they had to.

Harry looked out in the audience, to where Phineas and Ferb were sitting. It was hard to ignore the orange, patch-wearing, sash-wielding girls next to Phineas and Ferb. He felt his mind race back to the memory of that morning's breakfast feast in the Great Hall.

He and Ron had just entered the Great Hall, a definite buzz in the air as they discussed the upcoming Quidditch tournament.

"Man, Harry, you've _got _to win," Ron said, taking his seat. "You've got to show people that fancy brooms aren't enough to be the best! It takes talent and practice, which you've got, mate!"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, but I bet the latest racing brooms available would help, too."

Hermione, Phineas, Ferb, and Candace had come over at that moment. Phineas was showing Hermione a blueprint of Snape's private office that he had taken the liberty of making.

"Hey, guys," Ron said through a mouthful of toast. "Whassup?"

"Phineas was just showing me some plans of action," Hermione explained, while Ferb smoothed out the blueprint on the table for them. "Since they can't be there in the Potions class with us, we're coming up with a plan."

Phineas smiled. "Exactly. Now, I was thinking that, since you guys will be learning how to brew Swelling Solution soon, you could use that to make a diversion while one of you ducked into the private stores. Sound good?"

Candace narrowed her eyes at the blueprint. "Wait. _You _dweebs told me that this blueprint was for a class project."

"Well, it is – of sorts. We're trying to save the school and ourselves from utter demolition and dismemberment. I mean, if we don't get Draco's confession soon," Phineas said, waving a hand over the print, "that probably snake-ish monster will come after us _again_. And you, sis, you don't really have any way to _defend _yourself..."

Candace closed her eyes and raised up her nose. "If I find myself dealing with the business end of a giant snake, I will handle the situation with maturity and cool-headedness, expressing the calm and focused adult figure that I –"

_BOOM. BOOM. BOOM._

Three giant knocks on the oak doors reverberated through the Great Hall. It was uncannily like Candace had arrived. In fact, a lot of students turned around in their seats to verify that Candace was, in fact, in the Great Hall.

One of the doors opened up, just a crack. All of Hogwarts held its breath, wondering...

Isabella stuck her head in the Great Hall. "What'cha doing?"

At the High Table, Dumbledore blinked hard and rubbed his glasses clear.

"Er... Who are you?" he asked, already dreading the worst (and unfortunately, the true).

"Oh, hello! My name is Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, and I'm here with Fireside Girls Troop 46321," Isabella announced in her clear, innocent voice. The other Fireside Girls stepped into the room, lining up in formation as she spoke.

"Don't tell me that _you're _here to bust Phineas Flynn, too!" Professor McGonagall blurted before she could stop herself.

Isabella laughed. "Oh, don't be silly! If anything, we're here to _help _Phineas and Ferb."

"_You_ guys?" Candace's mouth dropped open. "Don't you have _lives, _people? And what about _school_?" she asked scathingly.

Isabella kept smiling. "It's called the 'weekend,'" she said smugly.

Just then, Baljeet, Buford, and Irving stuck their heads through the door to stare at the Great Hall.

"Oh, look!" Baljeet said excitingly. "Wizards! Oh, I cannot wait to do a thorough personality examination of one!"

"And look at this!" Buford exclaimed, entering the hall and approaching the Ravenclaw table. "It's a wizard _nerd_!" He picked up a first-year with huge glasses. "Time for a magical wedgie!"

The trembling Ravenclaw thrust his hand into his pocket, withdrawing his wand. "_Relashio_!"

Red, fiery sparks shot out of his wand, causing Buford to drop him in surprise. The first-year scampered back to his table, this time sitting far away from the entrance.

"Aw, man!" Buford said in disappointment.

Irving stepped into the hall, seeming about to wet himself. "Oh, boy! This is just like I'd always imagined it! If only I had my stump costume..."

"Oh, _please_," Candace begged some invisible deity. "Please, not _him_."

"Phineas!" Irving said, running to Phineas's side. "Oh, boy! I can't believe this! It's all so unreal! I can't believe that you actually get to _stay here!"_

"Thanks, Irving!" Phineas said happily.

"Hey, dinner bell!" Buford yelled, stomping towards him from across the room. "Gimme your food. I'm starving!" Without waiting for a reply, Buford took away his scrambled eggs and shoved them in his mouth, washing it down with Ferb's glass of orange juice.

"HOLD IT!"

Dumbledore had stood up, holding his wand out before him, silencing the entire school.

"You're... you're more of Phineas's friends?"

Irving, Baljeet, Buford, and Isabella and the Fireside girls nodded.

"And you're all _Muggles_?" he asked wearily, his wand sagging a bit.

"You got a problem with that?" Buford asked gruffly, knocking over Baljeet (who had just sat down) to take his place.

Dumbledore seemed genuinely upset. "Well, I need all of you to go home. Now!"

"But we just got here!" one of the Fireside girls complained. "Do you know how much walking we had to do?"

Phineas blinked. "Yeah, how _did _you guys walk under the Atlantic ocean in less than a day?"

"A Fireside Girl is always prepared," Isabella replied in a singsongy voice. "That, and time zones are _all _you need to know.

"PLEASE!" Dumbledore said again. "Are you aware that an unknown monster –"

"Actually," Phineas interrupted, "we're pretty sure it's some variation on a snake."

"FINE!" Dumbledore said, trying not to snap but accidentally doing it anyway. "Some probably snake-like creature is currently roaming the castle, trying to _kill Muggles_? That would include all of _you_!"

Irving sucked in his breath through his teeth. "Ooh... bad timing."

"Yes!" Dumbledore said, somewhat regaining his composure. "Yes, _very _bad timing. I believe it would be in everybody's best interest if you all went home, right now."

"Can't they at least stay for the Quidditch game?" Phineas asked. "I mean, they've never seen one before."

"What's Quidditch?" Buford demanded loudly. "It sounds stupid."

"Is it some kind of mathematically stimulating competition?" Baljeet asked excitedly.

"Nah," Phineas said. "It's a game where we give a bunch of teens heavy sticks and send them up in the sky on brooms with giant, violent, flying balls so that they can try to beat each other up. I think there's some other rules in there, somewhere, but that's pretty much the gist of it."

"Sounds gnarly!" Buford shouted.

"It sounds dangerous!" Isabella gasped, as she and the Fireside Girls covered their mouths in shock.

Baljeet raised an eyebrow. "Oddly enough, when I mentally compare it to other common sports of today, I find that it is still less dangerous and ill-conceived than most of them."

After a lot more talking, in which Irving had a miniature mental breakdown from the 'unbearable awesomeness' of all, Dumbledore had finally snapped. The Muggles would be allowed to visit _for today only_, and watch the Quidditch game. At the end of the day, they'd be told to go home.

"Besides," Dumbledore had said. "Tonight, Candace Flynn will be transported home by a representative from the Department of Magical Transportation. It's a good time for all non-student visitors to return home."

Anyways, back to the present.

Harry snapped out of his author-induced flashback just in time to take his position on the field. Madam Hooch put her left hand on the lock that held the balls in place, and with the other brought a silver whistle to her lips.

"On my whistle!" she yelled. "Three... two... one... GO!"

Harry shot up into the air, feeling the air press down on him as he rose. He went up higher than all the other players, scanning the field for his Golden Snitch.

"Whoa!"

Harry spoke in surprise as a bludger came whizzing towards him. Harry turned his broomstick around, speeding out of its way just in time.

Now, where _was _that Snitch?

Harry had barely had time to scan the field when the same bludger came shooting back at him again. This time, Harry dropped altitude to get out of its way. He watched the bludger fly away from him – and then swing around and come back for what was now the _third _time.

Okay, something wasn'tright, Harry thought, dropping altitude again to avoid the heavy ball. Bludgers weren't supposed to concentrate on one person like this, because their enchantment had them try and hit as many players as possible.

"Aah!" Harry shouted, ducking his head a moment before the bludger hit. He had barely missed it, and by so little that he felt it brush his hair as it flew past.

How was he going to find the Snitch _and _fight for his life at the same time?

"Hmm. That's a little funny."

"What is it, Phineas?" Isabella asked, waving a Gryffindor flag while she watched the game.

Phineas pointed up at the sky. "Well, I just happened to glance up at Harry, and it looks like he's gotten himself into a substantial predicament. One of the balls, a bludger, keeps trying to ram into him."

"You mean like _this_?" Buford asked, butting Baljeet with his shoulder and sending him flying off of the seat.

"Ow," Baljeet said weakly, sprawled out on the ground.

"Yeah, kind of like that. Except instead of a stationary bully, we're talking about a 70-pound ball travelling at close to a hundred miles per hour," Phineas said. "Y'know, we should really try and help him.

"Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today!"

Buford, Baljeet, and Isabella and the Fireside Girls began to follow Phineas, who had stood up and left his seat.

Isabella happened to glance back. "Irving! You coming?"

Irving shook his head austerely. "No, I'm involved in some very serious business that I need to take care of. So, if you'll excuse me... _Phineas_ is better!"

"_Harry Potter_ is better!" Collin Creevey argued, pointing at Irving angrily. "He's the youngest Gryffindor Seeker in a century!"

"Oh, _yeah_?" Irving scoffed. "Well, _Phineas _built a time machine using only the uncompleted prototype in a museum!"

"Harry Potter defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Darkest and most powerful wizard _ever _when he was _two freaking years old_!" Collin shouted.

"_Phineas_ helped a space station find proof of a wormhole, helped capture Mitch, a wanted space villain, _and _outwitted his own Tower that had trapped them in a glass bubble, tricking it into making a protective, unbreakable clear barrier that now protects our _entire galaxy_!"Irving screamed, standing up and waving his hands around.

"I'll... just leave you two," Isabella said, as Collin began to loudly demand if _Phineas _had ever used real magic. (_Yeah? _Irving asked. _Well, has Harry Potter ever stepped on the surface of Mars?_) "What about you, Candace?"

Candace smiled. She did her creepy laugh and pulled out her phone. "_Hehehehehehe... _I'm going to wait for them to do something, and then snap a quick picture with my phone, and send it to MOM! They are so BUSTED!"

"You _do _know that technology doesn't work here, right? Phineas _did _explain this to you, right?"

Candace rolled her eyes. "_Pfff_. He just told me that to deter me from busting. But I will overcome!" she shouted, standing up. "I will _not_ stoop to his childish level and give up just because of an immature impulse!"

"Yeah, well... good luck with that," Isabella wished, before turning around to go with Phineas.

Phineas and Ferb ran to a largely empty section of the bleachers as they waited for their friends to catch up.

"Excuse me," Baljeet asked as soon as they stopped. "I am aware that we are stopping a very heavy and fast ball from breaking Harry's skull open, but what exactly is our _plan _here?"

Phineas smiled and pointed up at Harry, who was currently doing loop-de-loops to avoid the bludger. "All we need to do is distract that ball and give Harry enough time to catch the Snitch!" He looked at his friends. "Any suggestions?"

"Why don't we taunt it?" Ginger, one of the Fireside girls suggested. "It may become so cross that it makes a mistake!"

"I'm not sure that bludgers have emotions," Phineas said. "Nice Monty Python reference, though."

"Wait!"

Baljeet was at the very edge of the bleachers, leaning against the railing. He pointed to the opposite side of the stadium, in the Hufflepuff section.

"Look! It is that same bat-eared, elf-creature that we saw with Harry before school started!"

"Oh, yeah!" Phineas said, joining Baljeet by the railing.

"What's he doin'?" Buford asked. "Looks like he's tryin' to conduct a symphony or somethin'."

Indeed, Dobby was sitting in the shadows of a stairwell, moving his arms around slowly, his face screwed up with concentration.

"_He's _the one directing the bludger!" Isabella realized. "But... but he was trying to _save _Harry last time we saw him. Why's he trying to kill him now?"

Phineas waved to that end of the stadium. "Well, let's go and ask him! While we do that, we can simultaneously stop him from posing a serious threat to Harry's life. Sound good?"

"_How_?" Baljeet asked again, a little annoyed.

Phineas gestured over at Dobby. "Well, Dobby might have magic, but _we _have an even better advantage."

"Which is?" Isabella prompted.

"There's only one of him, and there's a _bunch _of us! Now, let's go get him!"

Like a great army running out into the field to do battle, Phineas, Ferb, Isabella and the Fireside Girls, Baljeet, and Buford stormed across the Quidditch bleachers to the other side of the arena. They met with much opposition through the different sections for different Houses, of course – it was an exciting game, and traffic was congested, but eventually they arrived at the stairwell where Dobby was hidden.

Per the plan, Isabella quietly made her way to Dobby's side. He was so absorbed in steering the bludger that it wasn't very difficult.

That is, until Isabella tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "What'cha doing?"

"You!" Dobby shrieked in surprise, his concentration faltering. He looked around for a place to flee to, but could find none, so he snapped his fingers, disappearing in a wisp of smoke.

Dobby Apparated to the far end of the stadium. Thinking that he was safe, he found the bludger and, once again, directed it at Harry.

"I's so sorry, Sir," Dobby muttered miserably under his breath. "Oh, why didn't Harry Potter _listen _to Dobby? Why didn't –"

"Ha!" Buford shouted, grabbing Dobby by the pillowcase. "Hey, how the heck am I supposed to give a wedgie to a dude in a pillowcase?"

Dobby yelped in surprise, snapping his fingers again. He went back to his Hufflepuff hiding spot, hoping that the girl had left.

"Oh, no you don't!" Isabella declared, before Dobby could even find the bludger again.

"AH!" Dobby said, and snapped his fingers again, this time going to the Ravenclaw bleachers.

Under one of the seats, Dobby located the bludger, and sent it flying towards Harry again.

"Excuse me, but before I scare you off, could I conduct an exceptionally tiny survey about your habits and personality, in the name of science?" Baljeet asked hopefully.

"AH!" Dobby snapped his fingers again. This time, only a few sparks flew. Dobby tried again, and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Baljeet sighed. "Drat."

From the Slytherin section, Phineas noticed Dobby's difficulty in disappearing.

"They're doing great!" he said to Ferb. "Looks like we're tiring him out! A few more scares and we'll have him!"

Dobby stopped to catch his breath, having just gone to the Gryffindor section. Where did all these _children _come from? Didn't they understand that _Harry Potter _was in mortal danger at Hogwarts?

"Shoo!" Gretchen said, running up to him with the rest of the Fireside Girls. "Get outta here!"

"AH!"

Dobby had to snap his fingers three times now, vanishing just before the Fireside Girls had grabbed him.

The Slytherin section. His last chance. Dobby wedged himself between two boards near the back of the bleachers, sending the bludger flying at Harry, but weakly. It was getting hard to control, hard to concentrate.

"Hi there, Dobby!"

Dobby yelped again and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. He tried again, and again, but nothing. He was too tired from being chased around the stadium, Apparting back and forth across the field...

"Please, Sirs," Dobby begged, using his arms to drag himself back against the wall as Phineas and Ferb drew closer. "I's only trying to protect Harry Potter... only trying to _protect _him..."

Phineas gave Dobby a funny look. "Protecting him... by trying to severely wound or kill him?"

"No, never kill, Sir, never kill!" Dobby squealed.

"Phineas!" Isabella turned the corner, panting from running all the way from the Hufflepuff section. "Harry's down! He took a hit!"

Baljeet had just arrived with Buford, too. "What? How?"

Harry had no idea what was going on.

First, the bludger would try to attack him, causing him to go through all sorts of evasive maneuvers. Then, suddenly – the bludger would speed off and act like a normal bludger again, only to return to Harry in a minute or so.

But the minute or so was valuable time for Harry to find the Snitch. Malfoy may have had a top-of-the-line broom, but Harry had more training and talent than him. You couldn't look for the Snitch itself, it was far too fast. What you had to search for was a thin, golden streak, and try to intercept it.

"Aha!" Harry proclaimed triumphantly, spotting the golden Snitch above him, heading left. Making sure that the bludger was still being normal, Harry took off.

_Whisshh!_

Harry yelled and nearly fell off his broom trying to get out of the bludger's way. Now it was trying to kill him again, and Harry began to do almost balletic moves in the air to evade it.

"Hey, Potter! Whoever enchanted that bludger must've had Collin Creevey in mind, eh?"

Harry dropped quickly to let the bludger fly over him, and saw Malfoy a few feet away, laughing on his broom. Harry gritted his teeth and would have yelled something back, but didn't.

Hovering right there, right above Malfoy's head, was the Snitch.

Harry wasted no time. He gripped his broom handle hard and positively shot towards the Snitch, not even feeling the bludger gaining on him from behind.

Reaching out his hand, ignoring Malfoy as he tried to figure out what was happening, Harry closed his eyes and felt his fingers close around the smooth gold, the delicate wings.

Triumph swelled within him. However, instead of celebrating, Harry first had to jerk his broom a foot to the left, allowing the bludger to shoot upwards like a geyser where he'd been a second ago.

"I got it!" he screamed, holding the Snitch above his head. "I got the Snitch!"

The bludger had tried to hit Harry from underneath, but Harry had just avoided it. That was when Dobby was still directing its movement. But at that moment, Phineas and Ferb had surprised Dobby and made him lose control. The bludger _would _have started acting like a normal bludger again, except for a tiny problem - the enchantment cast upon the bludger and Dobby's magic had been fighting for quite a while, and the fight had been so hard that the regular bludger spell had worn off.

So now, a very heavy but normal ball, much like a bowling ball, was in the air directly above Harry. For a moment, it was still caught in the momentum of flying up very fast, but then the ball slowed as gravity pulled on it at the standard 9.8 Newtons per second, reached the apex of its journey, and began to fall.

_CLUNK._

Harry's vision faltered. It seemed as though his head had been slip open by an axe. He felt his fingers let go of the broom handle, and felt the air rush around him as he fell towards the ground.

Dobby, cornered by Phineas and Ferb, saw Harry fall from his broom.

"Yes!" he said, smiling slightly. "Now, they will send Harry Potter home, and he will be safe!"

Dobby couldn't disappear, that was true; but he could still run. Before anyone could do anything, Dobby pushed Phineas out of his way and bolted down the hallway.

Phineas fell backwards, holding his hands out behind him to find the railing.

He found it just as he crashed through. Thirty stories up – it didn't look good for our two main characters.

Isabella gasped . "PHINEAS!" She turned to the Fireside Girls. "Sashes, girls, sashes!"

"_Hut, hut, hut_!"

The Fireside girls tied their sashes to secure boards and quickly rappelled to the ground, Isabella leading them. Then, they gave their sashes a hard jerk in a precise movement, causing them to untie and fall back to them.

"Quick!" Isabella commanded. "Half of you with me to save Phineas. The other half gets Harry!"

Isabella and half of Fireside Girls Troop 46321 stood in a circle, precisely under the spot where Phineas would be falling. "Let's go, girls!" Isabella shouted.

Each girl threw her sash to others, layering them in a precise pattern – a fall-breaking, trampoline-like sheet.

"Hold it taunt!" Isabella shouted, watching Phineas approach the trampoline.

She looked down at her Fireside Girls.

"Wait! Not that taunt!"

"AAAH!" Phineas yelled, falling...

_Boing!_

The sashes had, indeed acted like a trampoline. So much so that when Phineas hit them, he bounced twenty feet in the air and fell back to the ground, too fast to move the sashes.

_Crash!_

"Phineas!" Isabella shrieked, clutching her face as the love of her life hit the ground. Hard. She ran to him immediately.

"Phineas! Are you hurt? Here, let me see - I've earned my First-Aid Patch!"

Phineas turned over on his side and groaned. "Ugh... My arm really hurts..."

Remembering her safety protocol, Isabella examined the arm as best as she could without moving it.

"Oh, Phineas!" she gasped. "It looks like it's broken!"

Phineas groaned again. "How... how's Harry? Is he okay?"

Addison, one of the Fireside girls assigned to him, shouted back, "It looks as though he may have a concussion! We should get him to the hospital wing."

"We should get _both _of them to the hospital wing," Isabella said, wincing as she looked at Phineas again.

"Wait! Make way, make way, please!"

Now, striding across the Quidditch grounds, there came a tall wizard in bright vermillion robes.

"Broken arm, eh?" Lockhart asked, approaching Phineas. "I've fixed _loads _of those! Stand back, girls," he cautioned, flashing them a brilliant smile.

Phineas opened his eyes a sliver and saw Lockhart bending over him.

"Are you _sure _you know what you're doing, Professor?" Phineas managed to mumble.

"Of _course_!" Lockhart said graciously. "Now, just hold still..."

Lockhart pointed his wand at Phineas's arm, making a complicated wiggly motion and muttering something under his breath. The Fireside Girls, Isabella, Baljeet, and Buford waited breathlessly, watching...

"My arm feels really weird," Phineas said after a while. "Professor, are you _sure _that you mended it?"

"Well... er... I... _fixed _it, kind of... Why don't you just pop on in to the hospital wing, Phineas, and get... er... _cleaned up_?"

"What did you _do_?" Phineas asked in a barely audible mumble. He saw his arm resting on the ground, still quite broken and useless.

"Can you move it, Phineas?" Isabella asked gently.

Phineas blinked. "I... I can't."

"Why not?"

"I... don't remember how to move my arm."

"You do not... _remember_?" Baljeet asked, stepping backwards a little.

"Yeah, it's the weirdest thing. I mean, I _know _that I can, and I _know _that I did, but... I just can't remember the right muscle sequences."

Lockhart looked stunned. "That's all it did?"

"Looks like it," Phineas said.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey rushed down to the field. "Out of my way! Out of my way!" she yelled, spotting Phineas and Harry on the ground. "Oh, dear! _Ferula_!" she cast, and a splint and bandage appeared on Phineas's arm. "Let's get you two to the hospital wing!"

Isabella, the Fireside Girls, Buford, and Baljeet watched them go.

Buford turned to Baljeet. "Anything you'd like to say 'bout this?"

Baljeet lifted his nose in the air. "It's _still_ a lot less dangerous and ill-conceived than most other common sports of today."


	19. The Second Attack!

A/N: ... or Hannah Abbot or Katie Bell or Filius Flitwick or...

Madam Pomfrey was going crazy over Phineas's arm.

"What on Earth did he _do _to you?" she kept demanding, using various spells to try and revive Phineas's memory of using his arm. "This is something I've only seen one other time..."

"You've seen it before?" Phineas asked her. "Where?"

Madam Pomfrey poured two crystal vials together, making a foul-smelling, black mixture. "A first-year – I think his name was Thomas – was concerned that his friends would learn about an embarrassing fact of his, something along the lines of his being a closet Ducky Momo fan, I believe... But some of his friends already knew. He tried a complex Memory Charm on them, which would rub off and erase the memory only from those who knew.

"_However_," Pomfrey continued in a condescending tone of voice, shuffling over to put a damp washcloth over Harry's forehead, "the spell backfired. The first-year ended up making the first friend he tried it on forget, all right. He forgot how to work his legs and fell down a nearby flight of stairs. _Not good_. He had so many bruises that I thought he'd been hit with a Color-Changing Charm."

"Then... that's what Lockhart attempted on _me_?" Phineas asked.

"Nonsense," Pomfrey said at once, tying a bandage around the broken arm. "Why on Earth would he want to make you forget something?"

In his half-delirium, Harry turned over on his back and began mumbling.

Pomfrey handed Phineas a steaming beaker full of green liquid. Orange specks floated freely in it.

"Drink, drink," Pomfrey told him, running back to Harry. "The problem might have something to do with nerve connections. I've prepared a potion that might help. Well, drink! What in Merlin's name are you waiting for?"

The doors to the hospital wing swung open at that very second, admitting Ferb Fletcher and Isabella Garcia-Shapiro.

Phineas gestured politely. "Them."

"Phineas!" Isabella ran over to his bedside. "Does it hurt? Are you okay? What happened?"

"Madam Pomfrey thinks that my nerve connections in my arm have been severed," Phineas explained, his tone of voice still quite happy. "I'll drink this and feel better tomorrow."

With that, Phineas brought the beaker up and drank it all quickly.

Isabella sighed. "How _brave_!"

Madam Pomfrey came over to the children. "It's about time you clear out of here," she told them sharply. "These boys are suffering from severe medial conditions; they need _rest_!"

Ferb raised his hand questioningly. He then sat down in a chair next to Phineas's bed.

"Out!" Pomfrey repeated, pointing at the door.

"I think, Madam Pomfrey," Phineas explained, "that my brother, Ferb, would really like to stay with me the night. Is that all right? I mean, he's _really _quiet. You won't even notice that he's there!"

Pomfrey scoffed. "I truly think _not_."

"Really? Then I suppose you notice how he stood up and walked over to Harry's bed?"

"_What_?"

Ferb was now standing next to Harry, who was four beds over, rearranging the get-well cards that the students had sent him.

Madam Pomfrey stared at Ferb for the longest time.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. "But you, you're one of the Muggles! Dumbledore said that you _had _to go home tonight," Pomfrey said, turning to Isabella.

Isabella held her hands behind her back and tried to look very mature and responsible. "Oh, it's okay – I told my parents that I was staying overnight to earn my Complicated Medical Care patch."

"And _are _you?"

"Well, are you willing to sign off on it for me? I'm fully prepared to care for Phineas and Harry during the night. I've already earned my First-Aid Patch, my Successful Major Surgery Patch, and my Recovery Therapy Patch, among many others."

Pomfrey bit her lip in consideration.

Finally, she shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, but Dumbledore told you that you _have _to go home tonight."

Isabella smiled sweetly. "Okeydokey, Madam Pomfrey! See ya, Phineas!"

Madam Pomfrey watched Isabella leave, not taking her eyes off of the Fireside Girl until the Hospital Wing doors had closed behind her with a _thud_.

"That's more like it," Madam Pomfrey muttered, pulling the shades down. "Good night, Phineas, Ferb, Harry. If you need anything, just shout."

As Madam Pomfrey left to retire to her office, Phineas and Ferb had their eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Wait for it..." Phineas said.

A stone on the ceiling was moving. It slid aside, until a dark hole that looked up into the attic of the castle showed.

Isabella stuck her head out, and then climbed down her sash from the ceiling like a gym rope.

"Well, I'm back!" Isabella chirped softly, in case Madam Pomfrey was still listening. "Don't worry, Phineas – I already have my Complicated Medical Care patch. But it never hurts to get it twice!"

Ferb pointed up at a clock.

"Wow! Ten already!" Phineas said. "Well, I'm gonna hit the sack. Thanks for coming and staying with us, guys."

The night flowed by quietly. Everything was dark and peaceful in the Hospital Wing, and Isabella and Ferb found the chairs surprisingly comfortable.

Harry was also sleeping soundly. He was in the middle of a dream in which he was dancing around Malfoy, waving the Snitch teasingly in the air, when he suddenly woke with a start. He had a pounding, stabbing headache, as if the bludger kept falling on his head over and over.

"Oh, Harry Potter, why did Sir not stay at home? Why did Sir have to come back and risk his noble life?"

"Wait... wait..." Harry mumbled, opening his eyes reluctantly and trying to sit up. He knew that voice. Was that...?

"Dobby? What're _you _doing here?"

"Oh, Sir!" Dobby moaned, sitting on the side of Harry's bed. "Why did Sir come back? Dobby thought that blocking the gateway would stop him, but his Muggle friend had a monster truck!"

"That was _you_?" Harry asked in disbelief, staring at the elf. "You blocked the gateway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters!"

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, Sir. Dobby had to hit himself on the head several times with a lead pipe afterwards, but it was worth it, Dobby thought, because Harry Potter was safe!"

Harry put two and two together and came up with the square root of 16. "Phineas told me that you were directing the bludger. So... is that why you did that, too? To hurt me and send me back home?"

The house-elf nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Well, whatever you're planning next, _cut it out_. Phineas and his family are some of my best friends, and there's no way that I'm leaving them when they're in danger."

Dobby widened his eyes. "Sir, sometimes the ones in danger is the most dangerous."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded.

There was a small stirring from four beds over.

"Oh, hey, Dobby!" Phineas greeted, sitting up in bed. "Not trying to grievously wound Harry again, are you?"

Isabella had woken up, too. "Dobby? How did you _get _in here?"

Dobby suddenly stood up on Harry's bed.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves!" Dobby squeaked. "Here you is at Hogwarts, and Harry Potter stays in danger because of you! Horrible things will happen, horrible things! And if Harry Potter does not leave, he will be caught in the horrible things happening! Why, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more – "

"It's been opened before?" Phineas asked interestedly. "When? By whom?"

Dobby opened his mouth, probably not to answer but to scold Phineas, but didn't even get that far. Harry, Dobby, Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella heard footsteps outside of the Hospital Wing Doors, and the noise was waking Madam Pomfrey.

"Leave, Sir!" Dobby begged Harry one last time, and then snapped his fingers and was gone.

Harry quickly threw the covers back on and fell down into his pillow. From the corner of his eye, Phineas had done the same, and Isabella and Ferb were pretending to be fast asleep in their chairs.

The doors opened. Harry saw the light from the hallways flood in, and closed his eyes and listened.

"I don't know how it happened!"

Harry opened his eyes in surprise. Was that Irving?

"Why didn't you go home with the others?" Dumbledore demanded Irving furiously.

"Well, Collin Creevey and I met up in the hallways after the Quidditch match. We were arguing about who was better, Phineas or Harry Potter. I mean, naturally, Phineas is better –"

Dumbledore cut Irving off urgently. "_Did you see the attack_?"

"No, sir. I was leaving with the others when I thought of the perfect argument to show Collin that Phineas was better! We've been in the hallways, debating all night. Just a while ago, I had to use the bathroom. Collin waited outside the door, I did my business, but when I got back... he was... like... _this_."

Harry lifted up his head just the slightest bit to see. Collin Creevey was being laid on a hospital bed, stiff as a statue. His camera was pressed eagerly against his eye, but nothing was moving.

"Yes," Professor Sprout finished gravely. "Like this. Attacked."

"I swear I didn't do anything!" Irving said.

"As if you _could_ have, _Muggle_," Snape sneered.

"Severus," Dumbledore said sharply. "Is there any film in the camera?"

Professor McGonagall leaned over to check. She carefully pried the camera from Collin's rigid hands and opened the back up.

"Yes," she said, sounding surprised. "He's taken a photo recently!"

From across the room, Harry heard Phineas turning over slightly in his bed. All of them were apprehensive, wondering if, finally, the creature that had attacked Perry would be found...

"Oh, dear."

"Oh dear what, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, he _did _take a photo... But... Oh, my goodness, what horrid photography! Creevey is the worst photographer I've ever seen!"

She held out the photo. There were no definite shapes, just different colored blobs, a mess of green, stone grey, pink, white, gold torchlight, black, and red.

"What _luck_," Sprout muttered, sinking into a chair.

"Why did the monster go for Creevey?" McGonagall asked.

"I believe," Dumbledore said slowly, "it was, in fact, targeting Irving. But Irving was using the restroom, and Creevey was right there, so..." He trailed off, letting the other teachers complete the thought by themselves.

"What in the name of Wizard God does this mean, Albus?" McGonagall said, her voice trembling slightly, trying to understand.

"It means that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened once more. And it reaffirms my suspicions that the 'heir' is striking out against our Muggle residents first."

Elsewhere in the castle, Candace Flynn waited outside the door to the entrance hall. It was quiet and cool, but Candace was anything but. She had been waiting there for a few minutes, feeling slightly worried about something, but she couldn't remember what. Had Phineas mentioned something about stealing from private potions stores? Yes, that was probably it.

_Crack_!"

"Hello, Miss Flynn!"

Candace blinked in surprise as a witch in a yellow cloak smiled at her, who hadn't been there a moment before.

"I'm Marella Flaversham, from the Department of Magical Transportation. I believe that I'm here to take you home?"

"Well, believe whatever you want," Candace said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm not going."

Marella tried to put a hand on Candace's shoulder. "Now, please, see some sense. I understand that you love your brothers – and perhaps are a bit jealous – but Hogwarts is no place for you."

"But you don't _understand_!" Candace whined, jerking away from the witch. "It's no place for Phineas, either! He's going to build some sort of wacky, dangerous... thing! It'll get _him_ in trouble, it'll get the _school _in trouble... "

"Well, from what I've heard, Phineas is a surprisingly capable Muggle."

"But he's a _Muggle_! That's the _point_, lady! They need to be busted!" Candace raised her hand to the sky and shouted, "And I, being a mature figure in his life, need to make him see that his inventions are unsafe and... and.. . of UTTER WEIRDNESS! Who else is going to stop giant carousal wheels from running rampant across the world? _WHO ELSE IS DETERMINED ENOUGH TO STAND UP TO ROBOT BULLS, OR BUFORD-MUTANT POTATOES, OR FIFTY-FOOT TREE HOUSE ROBOTS!?"_

"Listen here!" Marella said, her voice becoming sharper. She stepped up to Candace and pointed at her threateningly. "The Minister of Magic gave me instructions! I'm here to take you home, Miss Flynn, so stop with this nonsense! Give me your hand – we're Apparating."

"WAIT!"

Both Marella Flaversham and Candace Flynn jumped.

The doors to Hogwarts exploded open, and the last teacher in the world that either of them expected to see burst outside.

"Good evening!" Gilderoy Lockhart bade the two ladies, bowing deeply. "I understand that you're here to take Miss Candace Flynn home?"

Candace wore an expression of disbelief. "You? You're that Defense Against-the-something-or-other teacher, right?"

"Close enough!" Gilderoy said. "Now," he began, walking up to Marella Flaversham. "Could we talk?"

Marella raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Why, Miss Flynn's departure! I believe that this young lady is _absolutely _justified in wanting to remain here!"

"She is a _Muggle_," Marella told him flatly. "And I have my orders."

"But she _has to _stay here!" Lockhart said, not at all in his grand, happy manner, but suddenly sounding panicked. "I need all four children for –"

Lockhart stopped himself just in time. He smiled.

"Say, Marella... Would you care for a walk? We could talk in private."

"I have to take this girl back to..."

Lockhart sent a dazzling smile her way. He fluffed his hair a bit so that the moonlight caught it, and allowing it to show off his handsome features.

Marella blushed ever so slightly. "Well, I suppose... before I go..."

"Wonderful!" Lockhart said, taking her arm. "Er... will you wait here just a moment, Flynn? Excellent!"

Candace watched the two of them walk around the corner of the castle suspiciously. The night chill was beginning to get to her, and she shivered while she waited.

"Red shirt and white skirt – fashionable, but not the warmest thing in the world," she grumbled, hugging herself. When _were _those adults gonna get back?

When Lockhart and Flaversham finally came back, Lockhart looked very pleased with himself, and the Ministry of Magic worker seemed slightly out of it. Her eyes were crossed a bit and her steps meandered.

"Ah, Miss Flynn! Thank you for your patience!" Lockhart said grandly, smiling at Marella Flaversham. "Now, I believe that Mrs. Flaversham has something to tell you, hmm?"

Marella walked unsteadily up to Candace. She almost appeared to be drunk.

"It's perfectly all right for you to stay here!" she said giddily. "I'll go and make old Fudge see reason... Come to think of it, I don't even _remember _having any orders to bring you back to America! Ta-ta!"

With a wave of her wand, Marella Flaversham vanished, leaving only a small breeze and a _crack_ing sound as she Apparated.

"Well, that's done!" Lockhart said happily.

Candace may have been an impulsive, obsessive teenager, but she wasn't an idiot.

"Did, uh, you _do _something to her?"

"Do something? Of course not!" Lockhart laughed heartily. Then, he turned serious, and said, "Candace, I see your point of view. You're only here to keep the ones you love out of danger! Why, I had a younger brother, too… er, Lideroy Gockhart. He was always getting himself into mischief, be it werewolves, vampires, or kelpies. As long as I was with him, even at my young age, he was safe as can be. Those monsters didn't dare lay a hand on him when he was with Gilderoy Lockhart! They can sense magical power and ability, you see, and they knew that I was _nothing _to be messed with!

"Unfortunately," continued Lockhart, dropping his eyes to the ground in sorrow, "one day, my mother needed me to stay at home so I could show her how to banish a boggart from an old chest. My brother went out into the garden without me, and what do you know? A Lethifold slunk right out of the forest and nabbed him. I was seconds too late to save him – "

Candace rolled her eyes. "Y'know, I can _tell _that you're just making this up."

"– and just like that, my dear brother was gone!" Lockhart finished dramatically, throwing a hand over his forehead and wailing. "I understand your pain, Candace Flynn. So, please – whenever Dumbledore tries to send you home, tell me about it, and I'll... er... _help_, okay?"

Candace narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She thought about it. "You still haven't told me why –"

"Brillinat! I knew that you could see reason!" Lockhart said. He turned to go back inside, but paused and smiled at her again.

"By the way, I've stopped using my wild parsnip conditioner. Feel free to come down any time to my class. If you could bring your two brothers and Harry Potter, that would be even better!"

With that, Lockhart spun back inside the castle, leaving Candace to stand at the door awkwardly.

"Okay, that was _weird_," Candace said to the night air.

"Ah, Agent P. After the rumors that Agent O has been giving us, it's good to see you alive and well."

Agent P, sitting on a perch in the owl tower, saluted his Major.

Major Monogram was pictured on a screen that had slid down to replace a window. He shuffled his papers and continued.

"Now, Agent P, Agent O says that you were attacked by some probably snake-like creature at Hogwarts. Do you remember anything about the attack?"

Perry the Platypus shook his head.

"Absolutely nothing? Just saw something moving up ahead, quickly put on your protective sunglasses, and that's it?"

Perry nodded.

"Great Googly Moogly! Well, this was a disappointing meeting."

"Did you tell him about Doof, Major?" Carl asked from the background.

"Be quiet, Carl!" Major Monogram shouted. "So, Agent P, we managed to track Doofenshmirtz to the edge of Hogwarts Lake. His signal began to fade steadily, and then, suddenly... it stopped.

"To sum it up, we pretty much... have no idea where he is. I suggest that you keep a low profile and do not – I repeat, _do not,_ try and find him unless he shows up. If that probably snake-like monster is targeting you, then there's no need to put yourself unnecessarily in harm's way. Over and out."

Agent P's screen flickered to black.

Over at the OWCA agency, Major Monogram sighed. "That meeting has really bummed me out, now," he complained. "I thought that Agent P would be able to tell me who the Heir of Slytherin and the Monster were. And he doesn't remember a thing!"

"Well, sir," Carl said pointedly, "at least now we've informed the readers that Perry doesn't know who the attacker and monster are. And apparently, that means enough that the author felt it merits an entire separate section of the chapter."

"Or maybe it's just a filler because she got off by a half chapter from the real book!" Major said. "And she had to lengthen this chapter by using something."

"Well, in that case, Major, why not just tack that little bit onto Chapter Eighteen?"

Major Monogram scoffed. "Those teenage kids. They need to learn to make up their minds and be secure in their choices!"

"I completely agree, Major."

"Good. Now get me another cappuccino, Carl."


	20. A Third Attack and a Mysterious Ticking

A/N: Well! This book is going longer than I expected. I think by Chapter Twenty in _Hogwarts? How Serendipitous!_ I was already having the big boss fight with Quirrelmort. This only corresponds to Chapter 11 in the real Harry Potter book! Should my chapters be longer? Or am I just rambling on about things I shouldn't be? Please let me know! I don't want to bore you guys to death with stuff I thought was cool at midnight just before I collapsed from exhaustion.

Oh, and don't forget to guess what Animal Agent will feature in this book! It's not just a random one that I pick. It's some sort of animal from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets that will eventually become one. Give it a shot! Please?

... or Herman the Hedgehog or Ludo Bagman or Susan Bones or...

Madam Pomfrey came bright and early the next morning to have a look at her patients.

"Morning, Harry," she said absentmindedly, checking his pulse. "Do you still have that headache?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Madam Pomfrey."

"Good. _Lumos_."

Madam Pomfrey lit her wand and then held it in front of Harry's eyes. "No sign of concussion. Everything seems to be in order," she said, waving the light around and checking his sight. "Very well, Mister Potter, you are dismissed."

Harry hopped out of his bed, eager to tell Hermione and Ron about Collin's attack and Dobby's half-explanations. It was only when he got to the doorway when something occurred to him.

"Hey, what about Phineas? Isn't he ready to leave?"

"What?" Pomfrey asked, sounding shocked. "Of course not! His arm has healed fine, but... Why, that arm was only the beginning! I mean, look at him! This boy has some serious medical problems!"

Phineas, sitting in his bed, looked at himself and tried to figure out what the nurse was talking about.

"Look!" she repeated. "For starters, he only has four fingers on each hand!"

"I'm a _cartoon character_," Phineas explained flatly.

"But you have no chin!"

"_I. Am. A. Cartoon. Character_," Phineas said, enunciating each word carefully. "A lot of us look like this."

In the end, Harry managed to convince Madam Pomfrey to let him go (_There are so many things __seriously__ wrong with that boy, I tell you_! Madam Pomfrey shouted as they left).

"C'mon," said Harry, gesturing for Phineas and Ferb to follow. "Hermione said that she wanted to start with the Polyjuice Potion. Let's go meet her in the bathroom."

It was still early, so they met nobody in the hallways as they walked. Harry shivered as they went past the ketchup message on the wall, which was all the more eerie without any other students in the hallways. Harry pushed the door open and walked inside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, rushing up to check him as soon as he entered. "How's your head? Do you feel okay?"

"I'm fine," Harry said impatiently, trying to see past her to the cauldron. "How far did you guys get?"

Hermione pointed at the simmering potion, which was resting on the rim of a toilet. In the toilet bowl, Harry could see that Hermione had cast a small, waterproof fire. "It's going well," she told him. "We have everything except for the bicorn horn and boomslang skin."

"And a plan to get them," Ron laughed, tossing fluxweed into the mud-brown potion. "But that was up to Phineas."

"I've got an idea," Phineas said happily, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small, orange rocket and gave it to Hermione.

"One of Fred and George's Filibuster Fireworks?" Hermione asked, staring down at it in a confused manner. "How's this going to work?"

"Well, you guys will be brewing Swelling Solutions today," Phineas explained, as Ferb pulled out a chalkboard from nowhere and pointed at an etching of Snape's classroom and office while Phineas talked. "All you need to do is blow up somebody's solution, sneak into the private stores while Snape is distracted, and voila! Boomslang skin and bicorn horn."

Ferb gave them the thumbs-up.

When Potions class finally came, Harry's nerves were too jumpy to even attempt a good Swelling Solution. He felt as though he'd rather have a go with Slytherin's monster than to have Snape catch him stealing. The thought of getting caught stuck to the back of his mind like sticky gum in his hair, uncomfortable and constantly reminding him that it was there.

"Well, Potter. I have to say that this Solution is by far the worst potion I've ever seen," Snape said, leering over Harry's cauldron as he came around to check the students' work. "You certainly inherited your father's ineptitude at this art."

As Snape walked away, Harry turned to Ron and mouthed, _Ready._

Ron slapped the Filibuster Firework into his hand. Harry quickly glanced at Snape, who was praising a Slytherin's potion, bit his tongue in concentration, aimed it towards Goyle's cauldron...

The Potions door opened. Everybody spun around to see who it was, and Harry almost dropped the firework in his haste to hide it under the table.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, good afternoon, Headmaster. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing much, Severus," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "I just came down to observe you and your students. Carry on, everyone."

"_Dumbledore_?" Hermione asked in disbelief, as the Headmaster pulled up a chair and sat down right behind their table. "What's _he _doing here?"

"He must have found out!" Harry whispered. "He must have found out that we're trying to steal the ingredients! He wants me to stay out of the 'Heir of Slytherin' mess this year, so he's come down here to make sure I don't meddle."

Ron gritted his teeth in frustration. "This is just great! How are we going to distract Snape _and _Dumbledore at the same time?"

At that moment an idea fell upon Harry, a wonderful, beautiful idea. He grinned. Perhaps the tiniest bit of Phineas and Ferb had begun to rub off on him.

"You have plan?" Hermione asked, seeing his smile.

Harry grinned again. "Yes. Yes, I do."

A few minutes later, Snape was pacing the front of the classroom.

"All right," he said. "By now, your Swelling Solutions should be a bright green. I sincerely hoped that you kept those crushed porcupine quills on hand, because now, we're going to take a small handful and –"

_Tick, tick, tick, tick..._

Snape stopped abruptly. First, he looked out of the corners of his eyes, and then swiveled his entire head, confusion upon his face.

_Tick, tick, tick, tick..._

"What is that mysterious ticking noise?" Snape wondered out loud. The class turned to stare at their Potions Professor. A few of them cocked their heads, listening.

An irresistible urge welled up inside Severus Snape. It was a primeval impulse, one too basic and etched into his character to ignore, like a favorite dance from a past life. He felt his mouth open, take a deep breath, and –

"Snape. Snape. Severus Snape."

The classroom blinked and stared as if one giant being.

"Snape. Snape. Severus Snape."

"Dumbledore!" the Headmaster blurted, unable to stop himself. "Dumbledore!"

"Snape. Severus Snape."

"Dumbledore!"

"Ron! Ron! Ron _Weas_ley!" Ron sang, jumping in to do his part. As he started, Hermione quietly slipped away into the private potions stores.

"Snape."

"Ron!"

"Snape."

"Ron!"

"Sever –"

"Ron _Weas_ –"

"Dumbledore!"

"Ron!"

"Hermione!" Hermione said, emerging from the potions stores, her pockets bulging slightly. "Hermione!"

"Dumble – "

"Snape."

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

"Severus –"

"Hermione!"

"Dumbledore!"

Harry jumped onto a potions table and played air guitar. "Harry Potter! Harry Potter! _Ooh_! Harry Potter! Harry Potter! _Ooh_!"

"Snape."

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

"Severus –"

"Harry Potter! That's _me!"_

_ "Singing our song! All day long at HOOOGGGG... WAAARRTSSS!"_

Ron crossed the room to where he'd quietly levitated something a few minutes before.

"I found the source of the ticking!" he said in a strangely high voice. "It's a pipe bomb!"

"_YAAAAYYY_!"

BOOM!

Far, far away, in a Commons Room that was not Slytherin, a small black diary sang –

"_Bwa ha hahaha! Voldemort, Voldemort, oooh Voldy, Voldy Voldy Voldemort_!"

In the Potions room, the classroom laughed with relief as orange sparks flew everywhere.

"Well!" Harry said loudly, trying to hide a triumphant smirk. "I guess that it was just a Filibuster Firework. How on Earth did that get in here?"

When the bell rang ten minutes later, Harry and his friends rushed to put the new ingredients into the cauldron.

"Man!" Ron shouted. "That had to be _the best _Potions class I've had yet!"

Hermione frowned, letting the boomslang skin and bicorn horn fall out of her hands into the bubbling potion. "I'm just glad that we skipped the part with the _unclothed Headmaster_. This _is_ a children's Fanfiction, after all."

Another week at Hogwarts passed. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Phineas, and Ferb visited the cauldron every day, even though all that remained to do was to stir it. They almost felt that, if they were present, the potion would speed up and be ready before it was due.

One day, the three Gryffindors and two Ravenclaws were walking down the halls after attending to their Polyjuice potion when they happened to see a crowd of people surrounding a poster that had been hung up.

"A Dueling Club!" Pansy Parkington gasped. "That's a pretty good idea, considering there's a deadly, probably snake-like creature roaming the halls..."

"Who d'you reckon will be teaching?" Seamus Finnigan asked. "Flitwick's supposed to be a dueling expert."

Dean Thomas shrugged. "Maybe it's McGonagall."

"Whoa, a Dueling Club?"

Phineas ran over to the poster. He squeezed through the crowd and read the poster hungrily.

"Phineas," Hermione said, standing next to him. "You don't even have a real wand. Why would you join the Dueling Club?"

"Well, my wand has been programmed with every spell that Ferb and I could find," Phineas said happily. "I should be able to duel just like everybody else!"

"But magic and science don't mix!" Hermione persisted. "What if your spell and your opponent's have some sort of... adverse reaction, or something?"

"Adverse reactions?" Phineas blinked. "Cool! Ferb, get your molecular collision enhancer and testing apparatus ready – we're gonna duel!"

At eight o'clock that night, all the students that wanted to learn how to duel showed up at the Great Hall. It was barely recognizable, with all the tables pushed to the side and a golden stage up front.

"Who do you think'll be teaching us?" Ron wondered. "Flitwick? Sprout?"

"Are you sure that this is _safe_, Phineas?" Candace asked her brother skeptically (Phineas had insisted she come along). "Because... you don't even have any _magic_."

Harry caught a glimpse of a golden-clad professor ascending the stage.

"Oh, great," Harry mumbled. "Not _him_."

"Hullo, Hogwarts!" Gilderoy Lockhart said graciously. "Ready to duel? I'm here today with my assistant, Professor Snape, prepared to teach all of you how to defend yourselves!"

Hermione's mouth fell open. "Lockhart _and _Snape?"

Phineas smiled and looked at Ferb. "Now, _this _should be interesting."

"We'll be pairing you chaps up for dueling in a minute," said Lockhart. "First, Severus and I would like to provide a demonstration.

"Now, watch us. We will stand face-to-face, a ways apart – Now, we're bowing to each other – Holding our wands out in the accepted dueling position – Get ready! – And..."

"_Expelliarmus_!" Snape shouted, slashing at Lockhart with his wand. A jet of red light sped like a bullet out of his wand, striking Lockhart in the chest. Lockhart went flying backwards immediately, his wand tossed up into the air. Snape leisurely stepped forward and caught it.

"Very good, Severus, very good!" Lockhart said, as if he were the teacher and Snape merely a learning student, even though Lockhart was the one on the floor. "Excellent... Well done... Thought I'd let that one hit me for educational purposes..."

"Stand at attention and I'll assign partners," Snape said in a bored tone, as Lockhart picked himself up from the floor.

Candace laughed. "Wow! What an idiot! Can you _believe _that guy?"

Eventually, Snape made his way over to Harry and his friends.

"Let's see, let's see," he muttered, a sour grin on his face. "Harry Potter..."

"I'll be his partner!" Ron said hopefully.

Snape's grin widened. "No, I don't think so... Potter, you'll be with Malfoy."

Harry groaned, which only made Snape look even happier.

"To continue... Weasley, go with Finnigan... Granger, duel with Miss Bullstrode... Fletcher, with Goyle... and Phineas, with Crabbe."

"Okay!" Phineas said cheerfully.

One of Snape's eyes twitched. It seemed that _nothing _ever made this Muggle less than optimistic.

As they were finding their partners, Candace came up to Phineas.

"Hey, dweeb!"

"Yeah, Candace?"

Candace looked down at the ground. "Be careful," she said.

"Aw, I will!" Phineas said happily.

Lockhart had gotten himself up and was now acting as if Severus kicking his butt had never happened.

"Everyone found their partner? Good! Face your opponent... Now bow... Wands up... And... Go!"

"_Rictusempra_!" Harry shouted.

A jet of silver light blasted out from Harry's wand, striking Malfoy before he could even begin to say his spell. Immediately, Malfoy doubled over, laughing hysterically, too weak to stand up.

Harry looked round the room proudly, thinking he'd won; while he did so, Malfoy pointed his wand and wheezed, _"Tarantallegra!"_

The spell hit Harry forcefully, but did no damage – instead, his legs began moving of their own accord, _dancing_, strangely enough, as if they'd been hit with the Dance-Inator.

The Tickling Charm had worn off of Malfoy, and he was preparing to cast another spell at Harry, but Harry shakily directed his wand at Malfoy. "_Locomotor Wibbly!"_

Malfoy tried to dodge the attack, but he was too slow. Harry's spell hit in in the head, and immediately Malfoy fell over on his back, his legs bending and twisting uselessly, as if made of gelatin.

"Stop! Stop! STOP!" Lockhart yelled, waving his arms and trying to gain the club's attention.

"SILENCE!" Snape's hissing voice tore through the air, and every student immediately froze.

"Professor!" Malfoy wailed, still on his back. "He's done something to me –"

"It's just a Jelly-Legs Jinx," Snape said coolly.

"Ah, one of those?" Lockhart asked, sauntering up to Malfoy. "Let me, Severus, I deal with these practically every other day. _Finite Incantatem!"_

Malfoy's legs remained wiggly and twisted.

"_Salvio Hexia! Finite! Cave Inimicum!"_ Lockhart tried, his face turning pinker with every new spell he attempted.

Snape pointed his wand lazily at Malfoy and muttered something, but it did the trick; Malfoy was back on his feet in no time.

Managing a weak laugh, Lockhart turned to face the crowd.

"Well! Who knew the counter-curse was just 'Un-Jellify?'"

Harry, meanwhile, was still in an uncontrollable dance.

"Professors?" he asked hopefully, trying to remain upright.

Lockhart, seeing a chance to redeem himself, strode to Harry. "Well, Harry! Here, let me get that for you... _Mordrinicus Mumult!_"

Immediately, Harry's feet began to move even quicker, like a car speeding down a hill out of control, growing faster and faster and faster...

"AAH!" Harry yelled, his ankle suddenly giving out, and he fell onto the floor.

Snape smiled thinly. "Well done, Potter."

Harry inhaled sharply. "Ow – my ankle – I think I pulled something –"

"Sit down, Potter," said Snape, grinning even more. "I think that's enough dueling for today..."

Lockhart coughed. "Well, I'm not sure that you lads are getting the gist of dueling. Why don't we have a practice run? Fletcher and Goyle, come on up!"

"I think not, Gilderoy," Snape said, grabbing Goyle's shoulder as he stood up. "Fletcher's spells are always nonverbal, and we need verbal spells to teach this group of fools. Why not Malfoy and Flynn?"

"No!" Hermione whispered, ashen-faced. "Their Heir of Slytherin dueling a Muggle? Phineas can't go up there!"

"Phineas!" Candace said angrily. "As your older sister who has more experience in life, I _forbid _you to do this! Get off of that stage, right now!"

"Don't worry so much, Candace!" Phineas said. "I'll be perfectly safe. Got that molecular collision enhancer and testing apparatus ready, Ferb?"

Ferb held up a small, remote-like thing with a curly antenna.

"Cool! Let's do this thing!"

Phineas and Malfoy took up opposite sides of the golden stage. Phineas seemed quite content and sure of himself – Malfoy seemed full of hardened determination.

"Bow to your opponent," Lockhart instructed.

Phineas waved his hand in front of him and bowed deeply, the smile on his face never faltering.

Malfoy bowed in a spasm-like movement, bending only slightly forward.

"Wands up, boys!" Lockhart said. "Now – Three... Two... One..."

Malfoy lunged forward with his wand. "_Furnunculus!"_

"Colloshoo!" Phineas said, at the exact same time as Malfoy.

This is where something very interesting happened. Neither of the spells should have caused what ultimately happened. Draco's spell, alone, should have covered Phineas in boils. Phineas's spell, alone, should have stuck Draco's shoes to the floor. But Phineas wasn't using real magic – he was using _technology _to replicate the _effects _of a magic spell. Somehow, something that was technologically happening to make Phineas's spell work mixed badly with the true magic of Draco's.

The result was a snake.

In the very middle of the stage, there now lay a big, black, cobra, hissing threateningly and brandishing its fangs at both Draco and Phineas. The Dueling Club crowd shrieked and ran backwards to safety, including Lockhart.

However, perhaps due to the brightness of Phineas's shirt, or hair, or attitude, the snake decided that he was the biggest threat, and began to slither towards him.

"Phineas!" Candace cried, running out of the crowd, not knowing what she could do but needing to do _something_. "I _told _you this would happen! Just stay there!"

This was something the snake _really _didn't like. All it knew was that a big, bright, possibly threatening thing was moving towards it very fast. Candace realized her mistake too late: the snake turned around and prepared to strike –

Phineas was frozen with fear. He didn't know if his magic would fix anything, or just make it worse. But, suddenly, Harry stood up. He broke off from the terrified crowd, limping with his bad ankle, and came up to the snake, showing no fear, no surprise, nothing.

The crowd watched in amazement as Harry pointed at Candace. He opened his mouth – and _hissed_. It was undoubtedly a snake's hiss, but when Harry spoke it, the snake closed his mouth and turned to look at him.

"What's he _doing_?" Justin Finch-Fletchly, a Hufflepuff, whispered.

Nobody knew what Harry had just done. Was he egging it on? Telling it to _attack_? It sounded creepy and threatening, something that awoke dark memories of poison and ice within every person there.

Snape didn't wait to see what the snake did – he raised his wand slowly, pointed it at the snake, and said, "_Evanesco!"_

The snake vanished at once in a puff of black smoke; the silence, however, remained.

Harry seemed very relieved and pleased with himself. He turned to Candace and Phineas as if he expected them to be thankful for something he did.

Candace's pupils were very small.

"_Meep_," she mumbled, and then crumpled onto the floor.

Harry now looked confused. His gaze swept over the speechless crowd behind him, trying to figure out why everyone was so quiet.

Hermione, Ron, and Ferb shoved their way through the crowd and took Harry's arm.

"Come on," Ron said under his breath. "Let's go!"

Phineas hopped off of the stage. "Hey, guys, wait for me!"

Harry was dragged by his four friends into the hallways, past the ketchup message on the wall, and into a largely deserted section of the castle.

"You're a Parselmouth?" Hermione asked, sounding both awed and frightened. "Couldn't you have bothered to tell us?"

Harry blinked. "A _what_ mouth?"

"Don't you remember that book, Harry?" Phineas asked. Harry noted with some satisfaction that Phineas didn't seem dazed in the least. "A Parselmouth is somebody that can talk to snakes."

Harry's mouth dropped.

"That's what I did back there? I spoke snake language?"

"What do you _think _you did?" Ron asked.

"Well, I _thought _that I told that snake to back off and leave Candace alone!"

Ron seemed surprised. "That what you said? Blimey, Harry, we thought you were telling it to attack!"

At this, Harry lost his temper.

"Phineas, Ferb, Candace, and whatever Muggle friends they have are _my friends too_! I would never tell a snake to attack one of them, _especially _nothis sister!"

Phineas shrugged, still smiling and sounding very happy. "Well, we don't speak Parselmouth – you could have said anything. I've got to admit, Harry, it _did _sound pretty creepy."

"Well, I was only trying to save your sister's life!" Harry said irritably. "If I had wanted the snake to hurt her, I'd have just let it go without interfering! I think that should be obvious!"

"Harry," Hermione said, trying to make it simple. "Somebody is attacking students with a probably snake-like creature. Slytherin's heir is supposedly doing it. You spoke Parselmouth, a gift that Slytherin had, and did something that could easily be interpreted as trying to hurt a Muggle. Do you know what this means?"

Harry's face became white. "I'm not the Heir of Slytherin!" he said quickly, backing up against the wall in fear. "I'm not!"

"Well," Phineas said thoughtfully, "unless you've got a verifiable family tree going back at least a thousand years, you might find that difficult to prove."

Overnight, Harry's life grew much worse.

The next day, he found that people in the hallways, wherever he went, tried to stay far away from him, trading whispers and rumors in the shadows. Nobody talked to him anymore, nobody said so much as, 'Hi!' The constant whispers that seemed to follow him all day were driving him to distraction.

Over and over, Harry tried to explain himself, to say that he had been trying to _save _Candace Flynn, not hurt her, but not a single student believed him.

"Don't worry, Harry!" Phineas said brightly, as they sat in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom while Hermione tended to the Polyjuice Potion. "Ferb and I will get you out of this mess. This whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing has gotten_ waaay _out of hand. In fact, Ferb and I are formulating a plan to prove your innocence."

Hermione made a frustrated noise from the cauldron. "Oh, great! Harry, would you mind running out and grabbing some more knotgrass from the student stores? I'm just a bit short – three or four sprigs should do the trick."

Harry stood up and walked sulkily through the hallways, hands shoved in his pockets, mumbling to himself. How could _anyone _think he was the Heir of Slytherin? One of his best friends was a _Mudblood_, and _two _of his friends were _Muggles_, for crying out loud!

He was so busy muttering to himself about how stupid the population of Hogwarts was that he didn't notice two people in the hallway in front of him. He kept walking in a straight line, angry, frustrated...

Suddenly, Harry's foot hit something hard and cold, and he tripped. He fell flat upon his face, heard his glasses snap again – what had he fallen over? It seemed rather large. Pressing his broken glasses against his face to see clearly, Harry twisted his head around to see.

It was Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was lying on the floor, rigid as a fallen suit of armor, his face wearing an expression of pure shock and horror.

Harry scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. However, his heartbeat doubled when he looked ahead in the hallway. There, floating in midair was Nearly Headless Nick, horizontal as a floating table. Black smoke curled upwards from him, and his face was as terrified as Justin's.

What was he supposed to do? If he told the teachers why he'd been walking down the hallways, he'd get expelled no matter what. _I need a good cover story_, Harry thought frantically, preparing to run to the nearest teacher's office. _I'll say that I saw Phineas's platypus, Perry, come down this way, and then he turned the corner and _-

"AHA!"

Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff boy and friend of Justin's, pointed at Harry triumphantly.

"Caught in the act, Potter! EVERYONE! HARRY'S ATTACKED ANOTHER PERSON! NO... _TWO PEOPLE! A DOUBLE ATTACK! EVERYONE, A DOUBLE ATTACK!"_

"Shut up, Ernie!" Harry said. "I just found them like this, I swear it!"

"Yeah, right, Potter," Ernie snorted.

Harry cringed as he heard doors slam open from every direction. Students flocked to Ernie's voice, teachers mingled amongst them. If they looked scared by Justin's lifeless form, they seemed about to faint from shock as they beheld Nearly Headless Nick.

"But... but he's already _dead_!" a Gryffindor said. "How could the monster have done anything to him?"

"Ask him!" a Slytherin yelled, pointing at Harry. "He's the one who did it!"

Professor McGonagall ran onto the scene, her wand in the air. "Silence!" she yelled, parting the sea of students.

"Professor McGonagall," Harry said desperately. "I swear I didn't do this. I just _found _them here, in the hallways –"

McGonagall cut him off with a wave of the hand. "Potter, this is out of my hands."

"Hey! What's going on? Outta my way, small children!"

Candace shoved students out of her way, fighting to get to Harry. She didn't see the Petrified people until she had nearly walked through Headless Nick's stomach.

"Oh..." Candace brought her hands to her mouth. "Justin Flinch... Flinch Fetcher? Fletcher? Flinchy? Oh, whatever his name is..."

She bent over, seeming shocked. Her face lost all of its color.

"I... I was just talking to him," she explained, sounding overwhelmed. "He was telling me to be on my guard... I went around the corner to take a new photo for my blog..."

"Ah, so _that's _why Potter targeted him!" a Hufflepuff said in a realizing sort of voice. "He was really going for Candace! And Nearly Headless Nick just happened to be in the way."

"But I didn't!" Harry protested.

"Harry! What happened?"

Ron, Hermione, Phineas, and Ferb came running through the halls. From the sound of their ragged breathing, they had heard the commotion and had run all the way from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"What's wrong, sis?" Phineas asked Candace, stepping next to her.

Candace couldn't answer. She just pointed down at Justin awkwardly, and also gestured at Nearly Headless Nick.

The four friends cringed.

"Ooh," Phineas said. "That does _not _look good."

"Macmillan, Abbot!" Professor McGonagall said, pointing at two Hufflepuffs. "Please take Justin up to the hospital wing. Bones, I would like you to take this fan – " she waved her wand and made a giant fan appear, " – and... er... _waft_ Sir Nicholas up to the hospital wing, as well."

"I'll help!" Harry said quickly, eager to prove that he meant Justin and Nick no harm.

"No, Potter!" McGonagall said sharply. "You are coming with me. Candace, since you were last to see Justin before he was attacked, you should come as well."

"Well, then, can Ferb and I come?" Phineas asked.

McGonagall sighed. "Very well, Flynn. You and your brother may accompany us."

Professor McGonagall led Phineas, Ferb, and Harry away from the horrified, shouting crowd, down a small hallway that none of them had ever used before. It seemed to be a dead end, but as they approached, McGonagall stopped in front of a gargoyle on the wall.

"Victory Gum!" she said.

This must have been a password, because the gargoyle sprang to the side, allowing them access to a door with a griffin knocker on it.

"Whoa!" Phineas said, sounding awed. "Is this where Dumbledore lives?"


End file.
